Whole Again
by KaitlynRose
Summary: Post Devil's Trap. Sam and Dean are near death. John realizes he is going to have to keep his family from falling a part. Can you teach an old dog new tricks?
1. Chapter 1

**Whole Again**

By: KaitlynRose

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Not profiting. Don't sue me please.

Author's Note: Takes place immediately following Devil's Trap. SPOILERS mentioned. This is my chance to redeem John Winchester, at least a little.

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Dean was in agony. Every fiber of his being ached. Something big had just happened and yet he couldn't remember what it was. He willed his eyes to open but for some reason they wouldn't obey him. He lay there trying desperately to recall why he was in so much pain. The sound of someone moaning drifted to his ears and a new panic began to set in. With every ounce of energy in his battered and broken body he forced his eyes open.

"Ooohhh god." John Winchester had just opened his eyes and before him was the sight of his youngest son, mangled and bloody. "Sammy?" he gasped. He reached out and nudged Sam's arm but got no response.

Dean watched as John turned to look in the back seat and then gasp again when he saw Dean.

"Dean, son, talk to me."

"Dad…hurts."

"I know son. You have to hold on for me. I'm going to get help for you and Sammy."

John was also battered and bruised from the accident but he seemed to have gotten off easier than his boys had…even with a bullet wound to the leg. He dug in his coat pocket for his cell phone and dialed 911.

"Hello, my sons and I have been in an accident. We're hurt bad. We were hit by a semi. My youngest hasn't woken up yet. About ten minutes from the hospital on Route 11. We were on our way there when we got hit. I was cleaning my gun and accidentally shot myself in the leg. Yes…hurry."

Dean waited for John to turn off the phone and then asked. "How is Sammy?"

"I'm not sure. He looks bad. I think he hit his head on the steering wheel. How are you?"

"I've been better," Dean replied. Even though he tried to pass his injuries off John knew Dean was messed up bad…probably even worse than Sammy.

"You boys just hang on," John repeated. "Help's coming."

"Dad, are you okay?"

John finally looked at himself and took stock of his own injuries. His arm hurt but wasn't broke. He was bleeding from several locations but there wasn't any chance of bleeding to death at the moment unless he was bleeding inside. His legs were trapped from the car being crushed in but he could feel his legs and wiggle his toes even if it did hurt. That was surely a good sign.

"I'm alright," John finally told Dean but when he turned his head to look at Dean he saw that Dean had passed out. God almighty, both of his sons were literally dying right in front of him and he was pinned in and helpless.

He reached over and felt Sam's neck for a pulse and felt a little relief when the familiar throb was detected under his fingers.

"dean"

"Sammy?" John begged. "Sammy, come on…wake up."

"dean"

The single word that fell from Sam's lips was barely a whisper, a desperate plea from a boy who was suffering and in pain. The fact that Sammy called for Dean instead of for his father didn't go unnoticed by the senior Winchester, but he would never admit to the hurt it caused. No, he was simply glad to hear Sammy making any sound at all.

"Sammy…it's Dad. Open your eyes son." John waited but Sam's eyes never opened and there were no more whispered pleas for Dean either. John felt a moment of panic and once more checked for a pulse. It was still there but it was getting weaker.

He had often wondered why God had forsaken him, but surely this would be too cruel. God couldn't hate him so much as to let John sit trapped in a car as both of his boys died in front of him. 'Dear God,' John prayed, 'don't let my sons die. Don't take my children. You can have me but let them live.'

Several minutes went by and John listened to the labored breathing of his sons. Sam's breaths were growing shallower and shallower. His life was simply fading away. Dean's breathing had taken on a raspy wet noise. John knew Dean's lungs were slowly filling with blood. Tears of frustration slipped silently down his face and he realized the awful truth. His boys were going to die and he, John Winchester, was going to live. Just as he gave in to heartache and despair he heard the high-pitched sirens coming from off in the distance. He closed his eyes and prayed they would arrive in time to make a difference. By the time help arrived John himself had slipped into the darkness.

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Dean. He needed Dean. Where was his brother? He needed his brother. He opened his mouth to call out but no sound came forth. His throat was so dry. He turned his head from side to side but had yet to open his eyes. Why did he feel so weak?

"Come on sleeping beauty. Everyone is waiting for you to wake up already."

Even half unconscious Sam's lips turned up into a small grin. Dean always had that affect on him. Finally he slowly but surely lifted his eyelids and the first thing he saw was Dean's concerned face staring into his.

"Sammy, it is damn good to see you open your eyes," Dean grinned. His voice was light but Sam saw the tears threatening to fall from Dean's blue eyes.

"D…"

Dean realized Sam couldn't talk and he grabbed a nearby cup of water and leaned in to put the straw in Sam's mouth.

Sam sucked in a small amount of the cool liquid and laid his head back. He cleared his throat and finally was able to speak.

"Where are we?" he asked softly.

"The hospital," Dean replied. His brows knitted together and he seemed to consider something for a moment. "What do you remember?" he finally asked.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to think. He started to talk out loud. "I remember the cabin. Dad…Dad was…I shot him in the leg…then we got in the car. You were hurt so bad and Dad too. I was driving. Dad was so mad at me." Sam continued to think about what happened. What could have caused him to be in a hospital bed? Suddenly his eyes popped open and he looked at Dean fearfully.

"The truck! God we were hit by a truck!" Sam quickly looked Dean over without moving his head too much. He realized Dean was in a hospital gown. Next he saw the handlebars sticking out from behind Dean's back. Dean was in a wheel chair.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

"I'm going to be fine," Dean told him. He clutched Sammy's hand to calm his baby brother down.

"Why are you in a wheel chair?"

Dean let go of his hand and backed the chair up a bit so Sam could see the cast on his left leg.

"With all the stitches on my chest it was too painful to hobble around on crutches but my chest is healing up pretty fast."

"Healing up? How long have we been here?" Sam asked, clearly confused.

"Tomorrow will make three weeks."

"What! But how?"

"You've been in a coma, little brother. Had Dad and me worried half to death actually."

'Coma.' Sam let the word roll around in his head for a minute. He had been in a coma.

"Am I going to be okay?" Sam asked. "Is there anything else wrong with me?"

"Well, uh, do me a favor and wiggle your toes will ya?" Dean stammered. He turned his head to look at Sam's feet.

Sam didn't bother to look at his feet. He kept his eyes on Dean's face as he wiggled his toes back and forth several times. Sam saw the look of relief pass over Dean's features.

"Dean, I can feel my toes, and my legs, and even my arms. Everything feels really stiff, but it's all working." Sam finally looked down the length of his body and was shocked to see a cast on his arm all the way past his elbow.

Dean flashed him a smile that lit up his entire face. "That's good to hear. The night we came in you had a massive concussion and an injury to your spine. The docs were afraid of paralysis but said if the swelling went down you should be fine. At first they weren't sure if you were going to wake up, and if you did they weren't sure just what you would be like."

"You mean brain damage?"

"Yeah. How's your eyes? You hearing everything okay?"

"I'm good Dean. Well, except for a broken arm obviously. Really, I'm going to be fine."

Once more Dean grabbed Sam's hand and held it tightly.

"What's this thing on my face?"

"Feeding tube," Dean replied. "It's going up your nose and into your stomach."

"Okay, that sounds gross."

"At least you were unconscious when they stuck it in."

"What about you?" Sam asked. "The demon messed you up pretty bad that night, then the accident too."

"You know me," Dean shrugged. "Nine lives. They gave me a few pints of blood, sewed me up, set the leg, and that was pretty much it."

"I doubt it was that simple. If it had been you wouldn't still be in the hospital three weeks later."

Again Dean just shrugged. Sam had just woken up from a coma. He didn't need to know that Dean almost died that night on the operating table or that he had been unconscious for five days. His collapsed lung was recovering just fine, as were the incisions on his chest.

"The doctor says I can be discharged in two days."

"What about me?" Sam asked. "Can I get out of here?"

"Dude, you just woke up from a coma. I'd be willing to bet that you can't even walk right now."

"Don't be stupid," Sam said. "I told you, my legs feel fine." Sam attempted to sit up in his bed.

"Don't you even think about it," Dean ordered in no uncertain terms.

Sam froze and quickly lay back down. He watched as Dean grabbed the call button and pushed it down.

"Time to let the doctors know you're awake," Dean told him. "Oh, I need to call Dad."

"Dad, oh my god how is he?"

"He's fine. He was barely even injured from the crash. I swear the man's head is as hard as a rock. They removed the slug from his leg and slapped a Band-Aid on him. He was able to check out after just three days.

Dean watched as Sam looked around the room. He knew what Sam was thinking before he even opened his mouth.

"Sam, Dad didn't leave us. Trust me, he would have liked to have been here when you woke up but he's at work right now."

"He's hunting?" Sam gasped. "By himself? The demon is still out there."

"No, he's at his job. He's working at a garage in town. The owner is paying him under the table and Dad's actually making some good money. Plus, during his down time he's allowed to work on the Impala and his truck. He's got access to free parts from the junkyard. At night he's been doing a little hustling, but he comes here to check on us every chance he gets. He's going to be really fucking glad to hear you're awake. He's been worried sick over you."

Sam was about to reply but a nurse entered the room. She was petite and looked to be in her mid thirties. He brown hair was pulled back in a tidy little bun. She looked at Dean and then saw Sam.

"Oh my, you're awake. I'll be right back with the doctor." She hurried out to the hall and they could hear her announcing to the nurses station that Mr. Chester was awake and to page the doctor.

"Chester?" Sam asked.

"Dad's doing," Dean replied. "I was unconscious when we arrived here. Dad called Bobby literally from the emergency room and he drove all night to get here. Apparently Dad had left with him an envelope with new id's, money, credit cards, and insurance cards for all of us in the event of an emergency."

"Dean, the cops…the trunk!"

"Don't worry. Bobby took charge of everything. Luckily the trunk didn't open during the crash. They just towed it to city impound. Bobby claimed to be Dad's brother. He cleaned out the trunk of the car except for an old colt that Dad supposedly shot himself with by accident. The weapons are now safe and sound in Dad's hotel room with the cops none the wiser."

"What about the driver of the truck? Is he all right?"

"The diver disappeared," Dean told him.

"Huh?"

"The truck had been reported stolen an hour earlier and the thief was gone by the time the cops arrived."

"Do you think that's what really happened?" Sam asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you think it was the demon, or a demon, or you know?"

"I don't know. If the goal was to kill us it failed. We were all a mess. It could have picked us all off one by one. We were helpless. Plus it could have taken you and we couldn't have stopped it."

"Taken me?" Sam muttered. It sounded like a question but he knew what Dean meant.

"Sam, this thing…demon…it wants you. I don't know why but it does."

"I know," Sam replied. "Dean, promise me, swear that if it takes me, turns me, don't let me walk around on this planet being evil. I don't want to be like Max, or Meg. I would rather be dead than hurt innocent people. I would rather be dead than be trapped in my own body living some never ending nightmare."

"Sam, I swear that thing is never going to get you."

"Don't make promises you might not be able to keep," Sam warned.

Dean sighed deeply. "I swear to protect you with my life," Dean said. "But if something gets you and you are no longer you I won't let you hurt anyone."

"Thank you," Sam replied with a yawn. He was starting to grow tired already and sleep was beckoning. Just then the doctor walked in.

"Well, it is good to see you awake, Samuel."

"Sam," Sam replied automatically.

"I'm Dr. Roberts. I've been treating you since you arrived several weeks ago."

Sam watched the nurse grab the back of Dean's wheel chair and start to roll him out so the doctor could examine Sam.

"No!" Sam called. "I want Dean here…please."

The nurse looked to Dr. Roberts and the elderly man shook his head for Dean to stay. Dean was rolled back to Sam's side and he took his brother's hand once more. He held it tight through the whole examination and even after the doctor left. He held it even as Sam drifted back into a healthy sleep and not a coma induced one.

He picked up the telephone on Sam's bedside table and dial Dad's cell phone number. Dad answered by the third ring.

"Hey, Dean."

"Dad, good news. Sammy woke up."

"Thank god. Let me talk to him."

"I can't. He's sleeping right now. I'll be sure to have him call you when he wakes up again."

"Don't bother. As soon as my shift is over I'll be right there. How is he? Is he…he's okay right?"

"He's fine Dad. There's no brain damage. He's a little stiff and sore, but he's going to be back to his old self in no time."

Dean could hear his father breathing a sigh of relief. He knew how worried Dad had been as days turned into weeks and still Sam hadn't woken up. Even when the doctors reported a change in Sam's brain waves two days ago saying he could wake up any time John had still been worried.

Dad coughed to hide the fact that his voice was cracking as he spoke the next words. "I'll talk to you both soon. Stay alert and keep safe."

"I will. Don't worry, I'll look after Sammy."

"I know you will, son." With that the two hung up.

Dean dropped the phone back into the cradle and ran his free hand through Sam's shaggy hair. "Nothing is ever going to get you, Sammy. I'm not going to let anything take you away from me," he whispered to his sleeping brother.

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John was happy. It was actually rather shocking to him to feel such an odd emotion. He couldn't remember the last time he could actually say that he was 'happy.' Well, yes he could. It was back when Mary was still alive. But it was true. At this very moment John Winchester was happy. Sammy was no longer in a coma. Dean was mending quickly. John was fully recovered from his injuries. He still had a few aches and pains but that came from the fact that he wasn't as young as he used to be.

He finished his shift and climbed into his truck. He decided to run home to shave and shower before seeing Sammy. For some reason it was important to him that Sammy see him looking fit and healthy and like he had it together. The boys had been through too much in the last few months and a lot of that was John's fault. He had tried to protect his children but had hurt them in the process. What was that old saying, "The road to hell was paved with good intentions." But he was going to start fixing that right now.

The night of the crash, the night he had been possessed and sat helplessly in a smashed car watching his sons slowly succumb to their injuries he had one of those life changing experiences. Hell, what he had had was the biggest fucking kick in the ass that any man had ever experienced. That night he came within a hair's breadth of losing everything he loved but God had given him a second chance, a chance to make up for his past failures.

He had always told himself that everything he did he did for his sons, but that night he had been forced to see that had been a lie. Everything he had done he did for revenge and he almost allowed his boys to be murdered because of his need for vengeance.

The icing on the cake had been when Sam had called for Dean that night in the car. His baby was dying and he didn't want John, he had wanted his brother. Even though he had been possessed he could still remember the look on Sam's face when Dean said that John had been possessed. For a moment Sam looked torn over whom to believe, but it only lasted a moment. Sam put his faith in Dean. He chose Dean over John.

John was also very much aware of Dean's newfound rebelliousness towards him. Dean had always been the good soldier but lately he had been questioning orders and even challenging them. John suspected that was Sam's doing. Well, distance combined with Sam. For the first time in Dean's life he wasn't under John's thumb and the kid had actually grown a backbone when it came to dealing with his old man. As much as that irritated John it also made him proud.

John was also aware of a new danger to his boys. John knew Dean had always been protective of Sam, but he was startled to realize just how protective he was. On the one hand he liked that his sons depended on each other, but on the other it also would serve to prove as their greatest weakness. To control one all you had to do was threaten the other.

But at the moment none of that mattered. All that mattered was taking care of his boys. Dean would be released in two days and Sam would probably follow a couple of days later. He wanted things to be perfect when they arrived.

He parked his truck in the driveway of the small house he was renting. Bobby had made the arrangements while John was still in the hospital. He had secured a six-month lease and even cleaned the place up before John arrived. Together the two slapped some beige paint on the walls of the kitchen and living room and then painted the two bedrooms blue.

John opened the door and stepped into the living room. The house on the outside might not have been much but on the inside it was actually one of the better places they had ever lived in.

John had done something he hadn't done in years. He found out what day the trash was picked up in the upper class neighborhoods and he and Bobby went shopping for furniture at the "Curb Side Boutique." It never failed to amaze him at what rich people would throw away simply because they were bored.

In two days John had managed to get a kitchen table and four chairs, a sofa and coffee table, a dresser, and two lamps. The following week he got another sofa, a tv stand, a microwave cart and even two large area rugs. The furniture was actually in great condition even if none of it matched. He ended up having to buy three bed frames and twin mattresses, using up a large chunk of his emergency cash he kept in an account even Dean hadn't known about. Luckily the house had come with a fridge and stove so all John had to buy for that room was a microwave and some dishes and silverware.

John headed for the bathroom to wash the grease from his body and strip himself of his overalls. Four days after being released from the hospital he got the job at the garage. He was going to need a steady income for a while, at least until the boys were up and on their feet again.

A big part of him wanted to spend every moment at the hospital, especially with Sammy in a coma but Bobby had been the one to point out that Sam and Dean were going to be helpless for a while and were going to need somewhere to live once they got out of the hospital.

John stepped into the shower. Hot water pulsated on his sore muscles. He thought about Bobby. He was truly in that man's debt. Yeah, Bobby had threatened to fill him full of buckshot a few years ago, but he had been a rock for John the first week he was out of the hospital. When he finally had to leave John was truly sorry to see him go. At least Bobby had taken it upon himself to protect the house. Windows were salted, doors had protection symbols drawn on them and circles had been drawn under all three beds. The last touch was a dream catcher over Sammy's bed. Weapons were also placed strategically throughout the house. John was still very much aware that the demon was still out there and that it wanted Sammy, but as God was his witness the bastard was never going to get his son.

John finished his shower and then quickly shaved off his stubble. He was actually pleased with his reflection in the mirror. All his cuts and bruises had faded. He had been training vigorously again. He was back up to three hundred push-ups a day as well as two hundred sit-ups. Even better, he had given up the booze. He hadn't had so much as a drop since the night of the crash.

He put on a clean outfit and brushed his hair. He almost laughed as he realized he was behaving like someone about to go on an audition. He looked at his reflection in the mirror once more.

"Hi, I'm John and I would like to be your dad if you'll let me. I'll try hard not to mess up this time." John just shook his head at how pathetic he was. It was time to get to the hospital.

He made a point of hitting a Burger King along the way to sneak Dean some good food. He wanted to get Sammy something but wasn't sure if he should. Sam hadn't had solid food in weeks. He had been on a feeding tube with a liquid diet. His stomach would probably reject solid food. John settled for getting him a chocolate shake since it had the same consistency as the slurry they had been pumping into his stomach all this time.

As he neared the hospital he felt butterflies in his stomach. He had felt the same nervous tension upon seeing Dean for the first time after Dean woke five days after his surgery. He remembered the horrible things the demon had said to Dean and he had needed to clear it up.

It had taken some effort but eventually John had managed to tell Dean how much he loved him and that the demon had lied. He had explained that Sam had been treated differently than Dean not because he was the favorite but just because Sam had such a different personality. He explained that if he had shown more concern for Sam it was because he had always known that there was something about Sam that made him stand out. Things were drawn to Sam and he simply wanted to keep him alive.

Luckily Dean had accepted his apology, even telling him there was no reason to apologize, but John saw something in Dean's face, an emotion he had never seen before, and he knew that even though Dean would play the whole thing off like nothing, the boy had needed to hear the words his father was saying to him. Of course Dean had instantly asked it John was possessed again to put an end to the awkward moment.

Now it was time to have another long talk, only this time with Sammy. He was aware of the fact that the last words he had said to Sam were angry ones. At the time he had been so disappointed in Sam for not shooting him to kill the demon. At the time it had seemed perfectly acceptable but now looking back he couldn't believe what he had ordered Sam to do. Sam was so sensitive and emotional. The boy would never have been able to live with the guilt of having killed his own father. The guilt would have killed Sam eventually.

John pulled into the parking lot and entered the hospital. He walked straight to Sam's room and stood stock still once he saw the bed. It was empty. A nurse was in the process of stripping it down.

"What happened?" John demanded. "Where's my son?"

"Oh, hello. Sam has been moved."

"Moved where?"

"They can tell you at the nurses' desk."

John rushed to the desk and demanded to know where his son was.

"Sir, he was moved into the same room as your other son. He's just down the hall."

"Thank you," John said. He hurried down the hall to Dean's room and sure enough, there were his two boys, each in their own bed watching television and talking back and forth.

"Well, this is a sight for sore eyes," John announced.

"Dad," Sam greeted with a touch of nervousness in his voice.

John set the food on the table and embraced his son.

"Sammy, I am so glad you are awake," John said. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay I guess."

"What do you mean you guess?"

"You'd think after sleeping for three weeks I'd be wide awake but I still get tired pretty easily, and apparently I have to learn how to walk again starting tomorrow."

"What? Dean you said nothing about this."

"Dad, it's not what you think," Dean intervened. "After three weeks in bed Sam's legs are like jelly. We're both going to physical therapy tomorrow. I'm getting a walking cast in place of this one and Sam will be working on getting his strength back."

"Oh," was all John could say. "Uh, here Dean. I know how much you love hospital food." John handed him a burger with everything, a large fry, and a large shake.

"Oh God, Dad, you rock."

"Sammy, I just got you a shake. I didn't know if you'd be able to handle solid food yet."

"The doctor is going to start him off tomorrow on soft solids," Dean said before Sam could answer for himself.

Sam happily took the shake and sipped at it. "Thanks, Dad."

"No problem." John had a seat and looked a little uncomfortable. He had planned to have this conversation with Sam alone. With Dean in the room it felt a little uncomfortable but he was resolved not to wait.

"Sammy, I want to tell you that I'm sorry," John started.

"For what?"

John noticed that Sam wouldn't look him in the eyes and the boy was clearly uncomfortable.

"It was wrong of me to ask you to kill me. I want you to know that I'm not disappointed in you for not doing it. I also know that if you had the guilt would have killed you." John watched as Sam slowly lifted his eyes to meet John's gaze. Sam blinked several times.

"Dad, I want to kill the demon, but not to the point where I want us to die in the process. Dean helped me to see what was really important and family is more important than revenge."

"I know that now," John agreed. "You two will never know how it felt to sit in that car, trapped, unable to move, and look at your broken bodies, or to listen as you two struggled to breath. Sammy, you were slowly slipping away, and Dean was gurgling, drowning in his own blood. I don't EVER want to experience that ever again. I know I don't always show it, but…I…I love you boys."

Sam's eyes got even more watery and he smiled John. "I love you too, Dad."

"Oh God, you two are killing me," Dean jested, although hearing Sam and Dad make peace like this was truly music to his ears. John and Sam both laughed.

"Yeah, go ahead and laugh but I've had to sit through this speech twice now," Dean protested in mock disgust.

Once more Sam started yawning. He hated feeling weak as a kitten but considering how close he came to dying or becoming a vegetable he guessed he should be grateful.

John saw Sam growing sleepy. He stood up and repositioned Sam's pillows and encouraged him to lay back.

"You look good Dad," Sam said.

"Thanks. I've been working out and I've laid off the booze. Plus, I have to admit it is even a little nice to not be constantly on the road."

Sam nodded knowingly.

"Listen boys, uh, just so you know, I've gotten us a house here. Well, Bobby got it for us while I was still in the hospital, but, anyway, it's small but nice…clean. We actually painted it and everything."

"Wow," Dean gasped. "Where did you get the money for that?"

"I have my ways," John smirked. "Plus I'm making good money at the garage. I just wanted you boys to know that you'll have somewhere to live that's safe and comfortable while you're getting better."

"Thanks, Dad," both Sam and Dean said in unison.

It was Sam who brought up the big question that was on both his and Dean's mind. "What about the demon?"

"It can wait. Right now my focus is on getting you two better and having a little family time. When the time is right we'll go back to hunting. We will need to be careful though," John warned. "It's out there and it is bound to be pissed. I've put up safe guards all over the house to protect us, but I'll be honest, this thing…I don't know if anything I've done so far will truly stop it."

"As long as we stick together, we'll be all right," Sam replied. His eyes were growing heavy and sleep was beckoning.

John placed his hand on Sam's forehead and brushed his hair from his eyes. "Get some sleep. You are going to have a hard day tomorrow." Sam gave a brief smile before closing his eyes and rolling on to his side so he was facing Dean.

"Dad, you don't have to do all of this," Dean said once Sam was asleep. "Sam and I should be ready for the road in about a week."

"No, Dean." John looked at him thoughtfully. "I do need to do this. I need to be a father to you and Sammy, a real father who puts the needs of his children before his own."

"Dad, Sammy and I aren't children."

"You're my children," John insisted. "We aren't giving up, but let's face it, we weren't ready. We never should have split up. I'll not make that mistake again. Then there is the fact that there is only one bullet left. I'll not let you two face that thing again with nothing more than one solitary bullet. No, we need research. We need a plan. We need time. I'm going to find and kill this bastard, but I'm going to be more cautious this time around. That's a promise.


	2. I Need You

**Chapter 2:** **I Need You**

Sam grunted from the effort of walking. He was using balance bars to help him but, with his one arm in a cast that bent at the elbow, the task was made more difficult. He took several more steps.

"That's good," said Eric, his physical therapist. "A few more steps to go and you'll be at the end." Eric was a large black man who initially looked pretty intimidating with all those muscles and his bald head, but Sam soon found that the man was a giant teddy bear.

"Don't worry, I can make it," Sam insisted.

Eric smiled and shook his head. "I don't doubt that for a minute. I can see by the look on your face you're too stubborn not to."

"Man, you got that right," Dean laughed. He was a few feet over working with Tom, his own therapist, on getting full mobility of his chest and upper body back.

Sam had thought that he was here to practice walking like himself but it turned out that some of the scar tissue inside of Dean was causing him to be stiff. Dean had got his new cast this morning and after his upper body workout then he would start walking around.

"You're calling me stubborn," Sam laughed and raised his eyebrow. "That's like the pot calling the kettle black."

"Yeah, yeah, just keep walking over there," Dean laughed. Dean set the weight down and asked Tom for a heavier one.

"Not yet," Tom said. "You're here for mobility, not to look like Sylvester Stallone."

Therapy went on for another forty-five minutes and by the time Eric and Tom were finished with the brothers they were beat. Both gratefully climbed back into their wheel chairs and let the therapists roll them back to their room.

Once back in bed Sam groaned. "How can I be this sore for only an hour of walking and lifting a few hand held weights?"

"Stop whining. I've been doing this every day for over a week now, but I can feel a difference."

"Hey boys," John called as he entered the room. He was surprised to see both of them soaked in sweat. "What happened?"

"PT," Dean explained. "What are you doing here so early?"

"It's my lunch hour," John said, "and I figured I would spend it with my boys. Chuck even said I could have an extra fifteen minutes."

"So you like your boss?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, he's an okay guy." John pulled the chair over and opened up several take out bags. "Dean I got you a hot turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes and apple pie for dessert. Sam, I know you are on soft solids so all I got you was mashed potatoes and gravy and a piece of banana cream pie."

"Thanks, Dad," Sam said, touched that his father was making such an effort.

"Didn't they have any chili fries or something with more grease?" Dean asked.

"If you don't like it you can always eat the lunch the hospital gives you," John replied.

"No, this is okay," Dean relented.

The next few minutes were spent in silence as the three tucked into their food. Finally John wiped at his mouth with a napkin and asked, "So how did PT go?"

"Good," answered Dean. "I've pretty much got full mobility of my arms back. I'm still a little stiff in the morning but it doesn't take too long to limber back up."

"What about you, Sam?"

"It was tough. I didn't expect my legs to be so wobbly just from being in bed but Eric said I did good for my first day."

"Well, how are my two patients today?" Dr. Roberts asked cheerily as he entered the room.

"Good," Sam and Dean mumbled.

Dr. Roberts looked over their charts and then took Dean's pulse and listened to his heart and lungs. Next he checked the wounds on Dean's chest to see how they were healing up.

Dean saw Sam's eyes go wide. It was the first glimpse he was getting of Dean's chest since after that horrible night. Thank God Sammy hadn't been able to see what Dean looked like when he first arrived at the hospital. Sammy's coma may have been a bit of a blessing as it allowed him to avoid the carnage and then pain of the wounds as they began to heal and itch and even the horrible bruises that had covered every part of both their bodies.

"I must say young man that you are healing remarkably well," Dr. Roberts told Dean.

Dean just smiled and shook his head. Next Dr. Roberts moved over to Sam's bed and repeated the process all over. He thoroughly checked with wounds on the side of Sam's head and felt along his nose.

"You're lucky. Your nose healed nicely. There won't be any need for cosmetic surgery."

"My nose?" Sam asked.

"Yes, didn't you know? It was broken."

"No."

"Well, it's healing fine. I heard PT went well today. I think you can go home on Friday."

"I'm out of here tomorrow, right doc?" Dean asked.

"Actually, may I speak with you a minute," John interrupted. "Alone?"

"Certainly, Mr. Chester."

Dean and Sam cast each other a 'what now?' look as they watched their father step into the hallway with Dr. Roberts.

"Listen, doctor, I need to ask a favor. I know this probably isn't normal, but can you keep Dean here till Friday too?"

"Your son really doesn't need to be here two more days. He's doing really well."

"I know, but you see, I'm working and there would be no one home to help him out and then Sam will be here alone. I'm sure you've noticed that those two are very close. I'd just like to keep them together till Friday and then I'll make arrangements to miss work Friday and I'll be home with the boys for the three day weekend to help them get adjusted to the new house and things."

Dr. Roberts seemed to think things over for a moment and then finally shook his head yes. "I guess it really isn't a problem. I'll simply write on Dean's chart that more PT is needed and that I want him here for observation."

"Thank you," John said. "I appreciate this. I just want what's best for them."

"I understand. I'm a father too."

Dr. Roberts gave John a firm pat on the shoulder and then walked off to check on his next patient.

John entered the room to see both his sons looking at him expectantly.

"What's going on?" Dean asked.

"I just talked with your doctor and we agreed that you and Sam will both go home on Friday."

"What? Why? I was supposed to be discharged tomorrow. Come on Dad, I've been here for three weeks. I'm fine."

"It will be easier. I can get off work Friday and then take you both home. If you leave tomorrow then you will be home alone for two days with no one to help you if you need it."

"Dad, I don't need help. I've got a walking cast. This is stupid."

"Dad," Sam spoke up, "I know what you're thinking and really, Dean can go. I'll be fine here by myself till Friday. I don't need Dean to baby sit me."

"Sammy, just trust me on this."

"It's not fair to Dean."

"It's okay," Dean suddenly said. "I'll stay."

Sam dropped his shoulders in defeat. "Dean, you don't have to stay here. I can take care of myself. There is an entire hospital full of people here to take care of me."

"I know you can take care of yourself, but with the car busted up I can't come visit you at the hospital and truthfully, what am I going to do all day if I don't have you to bug?"

"I don't want to be some damn burden," Sam grumbled.

"You're not. Never have been," Dean said. "I'd just rather be here watching TV and playing cards with you than home by myself while Dad is working."

Sam hated when Dad and Dean treated him like he was made out glass, but one look at their faces and he knew the decision had been made. He might have been able to talk Dean into leaving, but he would never change Dad's mind, and with Dad encouraging Dean to stay as well, well, it really didn't matter what Sam wanted.

"Fine, stay." Sam shrugged.

John grinned happily, savoring this moment of success. His boys were safe. They'd watch each other's back.

"I hate to leave so fast but I have to get back. I'll come back after work."

"Bye," they both mumbled, neither sounding very enthusiastic since Dean was disappointed and Sam was just angry.

John crumpled up the empty food sacks and containers and placed them in the trash before heading out with a wave. He knew both of his kids were upset with him but this was a decision he made to protect them. Yeah, he had said that before, but honestly, there was nothing selfish behind this one except to keep them safe. He still didn't know if the protection on the house was truly effective against the thing that hunted them, and he didn't want Sam alone and vulnerable in the hospital. No, he was right to keep them together, even if it did upset them.

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An hour later and Sam was still sulking as he pretended to look at the seven inch television screen in front of him. He could see Dean looking at him every now and then but so far he had ignored him.

"Sam, come on. It's really not that big of a deal. So I'll stay here an extra two days."

"That's not the point," Sam replied.

"Then what is the point?" Dean asked, almost wishing he could take the question back as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"The point is I am not a small child anymore. I don't need a baby sitter. You shouldn't have to be stuck here with me just because Dad is convinced I'm useless."

"Whoa, Dad does not think you are useless," Dean protested. "Maybe you aren't a child anymore but just last night after you fell asleep Dad reminded me that we are both his children. He's scared Sammy. The crash was a big wake up call for him. Wejust aboutdied that night and he was almost left all alone. It's natural that he's going to be a little more protective than usual, especially when it comes to you."

"What does that mean?" Sam demanded.

"It means that thing is after you! Remember…the demon…the one with a plan…a plan that involves you some how some way. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Dad doesn't love me more than you," Sam suddenly announced.

Dean looked confused. "What?"

"That night, what the demon said. Dad doesn't love me more than you. Hell, most of my life I wasn't even sure if he loved me at all. You've always been his favorite. You always listened to him. You always got the second cookie."

Dean just shook his head. "That's what this is about? About the lies the demon said?"

"I…it…shit. Dean, I do need you. I saw the look on your face that night when it said that Dad and I didn't need you. It wasn't true. My entire life you have been there." Sam was on a roll now and the words tumbled quickly out of his mouth. "No matter what was happening or where we were you have been there to take care of me, save me. I would have been dead before the age of ten if it hadn't have been for you. When I thought Dad hated me what got me through was you. This past year I never would have made it if not for you. Even when we had that damn fight and I walked off I couldn't stop thinking about you. What were you doing? What was happening? Were you safe? As much as I wanted to go to California I couldn't. I stole a car and came back...**to you**."

"Sam, I get it, you love me. You're grateful for the things I've done, but face it, you don't really need me. When this is over, really and truly over, you are leaving again…and…and that's okay. I want you to have the life you've always dreamed of having. I want you to finish school, get a law degree, maybe marry Sarah and just be happy."

"I do want that, Dean, but the part you leave out is that I want you and Cassie living in the house right next door to us. I want our kids to grow up playing together driving their cranky Grandpa John crazy."

Dean laughed. "It's a nice dream Sam, but I don't see it happening. For one, Cassie is moving on without me. For another, I don't even know if I could live the life you are describing. I can honestly see myself packing my bags and sneaking off in the middle of the night after realizing I've made a huge mistake."

"You won't know if you never try," Sam said softly. "I know there will always be something to hunt, people to save, but we've already given twenty-two years to it. We can't save the world. We can't rid the world of evil all by ourselves."

Dean looked at him sadly. "Maybe not, but I know I have to try."

"Why?" Sam asked. "Are you so willing to fight evil that you'll sacrifice yourself in the process? You are going to get yourself killed for this cause and I'm going to be left alone to bury you?"

Dean looked momentarily shocked as Sam threw his words back in his face. "This is different. I don't have a death wish."

"Neither do I," Sam said. "Yet you seem to think that my life is so much more important than yours. Why? Because I'm the youngest? Because you carried me out of a burning house? Because I'm psychic boy? Dean, I don't want to lose you any more than you want to lose me. I can't lose you. Hell, I made a deal with the devil to save you once already, killing an innocent man in the process."

"You didn't know about the reaper," Dean defended.

"Dean…even if I had known…I…I wouldn't have changed a thing. I still would have taken you to that faith healer. You aren't the only one willing to do anything to save the ones you love."

"I don't believe that, Sammy. I know you. You have this strong sense of right and wrong, of life and death. You never would have knowingly let a reaper kill an innocent person to save me."

"Dean, I'm not that innocent, naive, teenager I used to be. You really need to stop seeing me as Sammy and as **Sam**. This past year I learned several things. One, that I really do need you, and second, that I have a dark side. If I'm not careful I really will end up just like Dad, and I'm not saying that as a put down, believe me, but I'm afraid. I don't want to turn off my emotions. I don't want to shut out the living to focus solely on the dead. I don't want my life to be consumed with revenge. So you see I really do need you. I need you to remind me who I really am from time to time. I need you to remind me that living is more important than dying. I need you to remind me that love is more important than revenge."

Dean was clearly holding back tears and Sam had stopped trying and was now wiping the wetness off of his cheeks.

"Wow," Dean said and cleared his throat of the lump that had formed there. "I never realized just how fucking needy you were."

Sam coughed and then laughed. Once again Dean was a master with the words.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you can probably sneak out of here and ditch my pathetic ass after I fall asleep if you're suddenly thinking I'm more trouble than I'm worth."

"Naw, I wouldn't think of it." Dean said with a smirk. "Besides, I've got no wheels so I wouldn't get very far."

Sam smiled. "Especially in a cast."

"Yeah, that too. Face it, you're stuck with me," Dean said.

"Same here."

"Well, now that that is all settled, are you ready to stop sulking or am I going to have to come over there and kick your ass?" Dean asked.

"You're welcome to come over here but I'd rather play cards than have an ass kicking contest. My ass is about the only part of me that doesn't hurt right now from PT."

"Deal. Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"We're cool now, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, everything is on the table. There's no need for anymore late night confessions or apologies or thank yous. We know exactly how each other feels and where we stand."

"Yeah, we're good," Sam nodded.


	3. Stress

**Chapter 3: Stress**

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed. As usual I appreciate all the feed back and the comments. I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this. I just know I couldn't leave well enough alone after the cliffhanger season finale they gave us. I needed more. I figure Supernatural will probably kill of John but I think he needed a chance for redemption before he made his way to the pearly gates. Maybe I watched too much Angel over the years, but everyone needs a second chance.

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Two days later John was rushing around frantically. The boys were set to come home today and he wasn't ready. He woke up this morning only to realize there was no food in the house. He had been living on take out since cooking for one person was a total waste of time.

So the day started with a trip to the market where he grabbed eggs, milk, bread, peanut butter and jelly, a variety of can food and an assortment of frozen dinners and pizzas. He remembered that the boys liked Lucky Charms and grabbed a box of that along with some sodas. Just before reaching the checkout lane he passed the book and magazine rack. He grabbed a few car magazines and tabloids for Dean and a couple of novels for Sam.

He returned home and put it all away in the kitchen and then remembered the boys didn't have any clothes at the hospital. The ones they had arrived in had been literally cut off their bodies. John also hadn't bothered to do any laundry for the boys so he had no clean clothes for them. Shit, that would mean another trip to the store.

Before heading out he grabbed their shoes and their spare coats. Thank goodness Dean's favorite leather jacket hadn't been ruined. Dean was wearing his blue coat the night of the crash.

Back in the truck he headed to the local K-Mart where he grabbed a pair of Levi's for each of them along with two gray t-shirts and two button-down shirts. At the last second he remembered socks and underwear. He hoped the boys wore the same size since he was only buying one package of each. Money was a little tight right now. At least he was getting paid today. In fact he needed to stop at the garage on the way to the hospital so he would have money for the weekend.

He passed a shelf of DVD's and even though he knew he shouldn't waste the money he grabbed two movies to buy. They weren't new since they were only $6.44 each but he knew he had never seen either of them. One was called Resident Evil, which he figured Dean would like, and the other was called The Goonies, which he hoped Sam would like.

He paid the cashier and ran out to the truck once more. Ten minutes later he was at Chuck's Auto Repair Shop.

"Hey, John, what are you doing here?" Luke asked. He was a nineteen year old kid who worked part time. "Thought your sons were being released from the hospital today."

"They are. I'm on my way there right now. I just came to get my pay so I'll have some cash on hand this weekend," John replied.

"I hear that."

John hurried inside and found Chuck sitting at his desk.

"John, how are the boys?"

"I haven't seen them yet. I've been running around to the market and K-mart for some clothes for them. I just stopped to collect my pay."

"Sure." Chuck opened a small safe in the corner and counted out John's wages for the week. He placed $360 in John's hand.

"Thanks for this," John said.

"No problem. You're a good worker. You have a job here for as long as you want," Chuck replied. "Now go get your boys and enjoy your weekend with them. I'm sure they will be happy to be out of the hospital."

"Thanks, and they will be."

John went back to the truck and headed for the hospital. He parked in the lot and made the long walk to his boys' room. He smiled as he entered the room to find Sam and Dean sitting on the edge of Dean's bed waiting for him.

"Hey boys. You ready to get the hell out of here?"

"Yes," they replied.

"Don't suppose you remembered clothes, did ya?" Dean asked.

"Sure did," John replied handing over the K-Mart bags.

"Sweet," Dean replied.

"Do either of you need help getting dressed?" John asked.

Sam and Dean both looked like deer caught in headlights. They were used to seeing each other occasionally in their birthday suits but it had been ten years or better since their father had seen them in such a state of undress.

"Uh…I think we'll manage," Sam said.

"All right. Just holler if you need anything." Then John closed the door behind him.

Dean dug through the bags and handed Sam his new clothes after he ripped the tags off of them.

"Thanks," Sam said.

"You have to be kidding," Dean groaned.

"What?"

Dean held up his clothes and Sam had to laugh. Dad had bought them matching outfits.

"Maybe for a split second he thought we were twins," Sam chuckled.

"Dude, we are going to look like dorks wearing the same clothes."

"Dean, we're at the hospital. There's no one to impress here. All we need to do is wear them till we get home. Besides, you have a bigger problem. Blue jeans aren't going to fit over your cast."

"Shit," Dean grumbled when he realized Sam was right. "I'm going to have to cut the leg off."

"Wait, maybe the hospital has a pair of sweat pants you can have," Sam offered. "And this way we won't be dressed the same."

"Good idea." Dean hobbled over to the door and opened it a crack. "Hey Dad, ask them if they have a pair of sweat pants or scrubs here. I can't fit the jeans over my cast."

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't even think."

"That's okay. Just go ask."

Dean sat on the bed waiting while Sam drew his curtain and began getting dressed. Sam was able to pull his pants on no problem and even the t-shirt, but he couldn't wear the button down shirt because of his own cast. He pulled on some socks using one hand and slipped his shoes on. He realized that he couldn't tie them, however.

There was a knock on the door and then John entered with a pair of gray sweats for Dean.

"Great," Dean said. He pulled the pliable material up over his boxers and then striped off the hospital gown. It only took a moment for him to pull on the two shirts.

"I need someone to tie my shoes," Sam said. He placed one foot at a time on the edge of the seat and Dad quickly did the laces.

"Where's your shirt Sam?"

"Doesn't fit because of the cast."

"I'm sorry. I guess I didn't do a good job selecting clothes. I was in a hurry."

"We never would have guess," Sam teased.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you bought us matching clothes," Dean griped. "That would have been cute if we were still under the age of ten, but not when we're both in our twenties."

John laughed. "Give a guy a break would ya? I've been running around all morning trying to get things ready for you two. I'm a little out of practice with this stuff."

Now Sam laughed. "Dad, you were never **in** practice with this stuff. Dean usually took care of that type of thing."

John grinned. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Still, I'm trying. Now let's get out of here."

Two orderlies showed up with wheel chairs and Sam and Dean took their last spin through the hospital with John following behind.

"You two wait here and I'll go get the car," John said.

"We're okay to walk," Sam said. "Actually after all that laying I'd like to walk in the fresh air for a bit."

"Ditto," Dean replied.

"Okay."

John led them through the parking lot to his truck. He kept a close eye on both his sons. He saw that Dean was hobbling along fine with his new cast but Sam was moving a little slow. Sam had also lost weight from being on a liquid diet. He would need to bulk Sam back up and have the kid rebuild his muscle tone.

Finally they reached the car. John climbed in behind the wheel. Sammy sat in the middle while Dean got the window seat.

"Now take me to see my car," Dean said.

"What?" John asked.

"My car? I want to see it."

"Uh…Dean, I don't think that's a good idea. You know, it doesn't look to good right now."

"I know, but you said you've been working on it."

"Yeah, but you see, I've also been working on the house and making money at pool and working at the garage and visiting you boys at the hospital. Let me just take you two home right now. You can see the car another day."

"Dad, I want to see my car, now. If you won't take me then I'll freaking walk to the garage."

"All right, all right, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Sam had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. The way Dad was acting told him that the car was most likely totaled but still, Dean would want to see it for himself. Ten minutes later they pulled in front the repair shop.

"You boys behave here. Remember, this is where I work."

"Yes, sir."

They climbed out of the truck and John led them around back. There, behind the garage was Dean's beloved car. Sam's suspicions were dead on. The car was nothing more than pieces of scrap metal. The passenger side of the car was actually gone. It had been torn off to free John from the wreck. The tires were no longer straight up and down but now bent sideways. This car was never going to run ever again.

Sam actually felt a shiver go up his spine as he looked at the car and realized that they had actually all been inside of it when that had happened. Suddenly he understood why he had spent three weeks in a coma. Honestly, it was a miracle any of them were still alive.

Dean slowly walked a circle around his baby. His hands were clenching and unclenching and his nostrils flared in and out. His face was flush with anger.

Sam came up behind Dean and put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Dean jerked his hand off and turned on Sam. "How could you not see a semi truck heading straight for us? Christ! A SEMI!"

Sam backed up quickly and raised his arm to fend off a punch. Dean had never attacked Sam before, not like this, but Sam could see the anguish his brother was going through and wouldn't hold it against him if Dean suddenly struck him.

"Dean!" John shouted and quickly placed himself between his two sons. "Dean, I was there too, and it happened to fast. The truck came out of no where. Sam didn't do anything wrong. This is no more his fault than yours or mine."

"But..."

"No, Dean. This stinks, I know, but there is no one to blame except for the person driving the truck. I've seen the police report and we were hit deliberately. I've even driven out to the crash sight and its plain as day. The truck that hit us wasn't even driving on a road. It was moving cross country."

"What?" Dean gasped.

"That's right. The crash was no accident. It was an attempt to kill us."

"But why didn't they finish off the job?" Sam asked. "At the crash sight it would have been so easy to shoot us or slit our throats or anything. Why did they let us live? Why haven't they been back?"

"I don't know," John admitted. "I don't think they want to kill you, Sam. In fact I'm pretty sure of that. I couldn't read that fucker's mind while he was in me but I was able to hear him sometimes, to get…feelings…from him. The demon is planning something with you and the others like you."

"Do you have any idea what that is?" Sam asked.

"No. I wish I did but I haven't got a clue."

"So I really am cursed," Sam said sadly.

"Sam."

"Don't Dean. Don't tell me that it will be okay or that this is _our_ problem. No matter where I go or what I do this thing is always going to be after me. Any girl I ever let into my life will be in danger of having her gut slashed open and set ablaze while stuck to the ceiling. I'm never going to have the dream, Dean. I'm never going to get married. I'm never going to have children. God, this is it. This really is going to be the rest of my life. Hunting monsters in the night, visions of people I don't even know dying violently, migraine headaches that are almost crippling, and nightmares that tear me from my sleep night after night, aren't I the lucky one?"

Sam spun around and fled his brother and his father. He jogged back to the pick up truck, rested his good arm on the hood and then laid his head on his arm. He was wallowing in self pity he knew and yet he didn't care. Why? Why was this happening to him? His breathing was coming in quick gasps and he knew he was hyperventilating. He needed to calm down before he passed out but he couldn't get his emotions under control. If anything the harder he tried to calm down the more anxiety he felt.

A set of strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him from the hood of the car. Sam leaned back, his breath still coming in short gasps, and he saw his father clutching him tight, supporting Sam's weight. Suddenly Dean was in front of him slapping his face.

"Sammy, snap out of it," Dean ordered, but Sam didn't. Spots were starting to dance before his eyes and he knew he was going to pass out. He felt his father dragging him towards the door of the truck. Dean quickly whipped the door open and helped Dad sit Sam down on the seat. After that Sam remembered nothing.

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Dean sat in the truck holding Sam to him. Sam's head was currently resting on his chest. It had been almost five minutes since Sammy's little anxiety attack and still Sam was passed out.

"He hasn't had one of those in years," John said.

Dean was tempted to say 'how would you know?' but didn't. There was enough to worry about at the moment without pissing Dad off too. The fact was Sam had been suffering from anxiety ever since Jess died, but this was the first time he'd hyperventilated and passed out since about the age of eleven or twelve. Still, Dean could understand why the kid had lost it just now. Sam suddenly felt as if all hope had been lost.

Dean checked Sam's pulse once again and was glad to see his heart rate was returning to normal. It had been racing just a couple of minutes ago.

"Dad, we have to find this thing and kill it somehow," Dean said. "Sam is never going to be free until we do."

John took his eyes off the road long enough to look at Dean and Dean was surprised to see anger on the old man's face. "For the record you boys had a chance to take it out, and both of you failed to do it."

"Fine, let me amend my statement. We need to find this thing and kill it without killing you or one of us in the process."

"I wish I could promise that it wouldn't come to that, but I just can't. Dean, I know your number one goal is to keep this family safe…to keep us alive at all costs, but you are going to have to realize something…the job we do comes with a body count. Jenkins, Pastor Jim, Caleb, they were simply minding their own business when the job caught up to them and killed them. The fact is it's not a question of if but when. This job is going to be the death of us, whether it's today, tomorrow, or a year from now. We've been lucky so far, but luck doesn't hold out forever."

"So what are you trying to tell me?" Dean asked. "Quit? Send Sammy back to Stanford? We can't quit this job now. That demon's not going to let us quit. He's not going to let Sam have a normal life. You know that, I know that, and even worse, Sam knows that, which is why he hyperventilated and passed out."

"Of course I'm not saying we quit, but you need to accept what is going to be inevitable. One day one of us is going to die, and you won't be able to stop it. One day one of us is going to have to be sacrificed to save the rest."

"No," Dean replied. "Not happening. Not while I'm around."

John looked at him once more. John was trying desperately to make a point with Dean but his son was refusing to acknowledge to point he was making. John decided to let it go for now. He reminded himself that his goal was to repair his relationship with his sons, not drive the wedge between them even deeper. Finally John pulled into the driveway next to their new little house.

"Sammy," Dean called softly and tapped Sam on his cheek. "Come on little brother, we're home."

Sam's eyes opened slowly and he blinked several times. "Dean?"

"I'm here." Dean lifted Sam off his chest and leaned him upright. "You think you can walk to the house?"

Sam felt light headed and dizzy but nodded yes. Dean slid out of the truck first and then Sam slid over. Dean was about to help Sam out of the truck but found himself being moved to the side.

"I got him. You're not totally stable yourself with your broken leg." John had hurried around the truck to help Sam. He grabbed Sam by his good arm and guided him toward the front steps. John noticed that Sam still seemed a bit out of it. This definitely wasn't the home coming he had envisioned for his boys but then life very rarely ever went the way they wanted it to.

Sam found himself climbing the five steps with Dad on his right side and Dean on his left. Each had a hand on him, supporting him, making sure he didn't fall. It should have been a touching moment to Sam, but it also served as a reminder that he was the weak one of the three. His own breathing had betrayed him today.

John unlocked the door and ushered Sam and Dean inside. He watched as the boys took a moment to check out the new place. Then John grabbed Sam and guided him over to the sofa and gave him a small push to sit down.

"Dean, have a seat too. I want you two to just take it easy today." John knew that Dean had also had a big shock today when he saw his car and right now he didn't need either son hitting the floor.

Dean walked to the other sofa and sat down. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and threw his arm over his face. He wasn't going to have an anxiety attack but he was definitely feeling the stress of the day catch up to him. Shit, his car was ruined, Sam had passed out cold, and Dad was trying to convince him that he was going to have to accept that they were going to die eventually. Yep, that definitely made for a crappy day in Dean's book.

Dean felt a hand on his shoulder and lifted his arm to see his father standing over him with a blanket and a pillow.

"You need to rest," John told him. "Take your shoe off and lay back. John positioned the pillow at the head of the sofa and Dean stretched out and made himself comfortable. Then John draped the blanket over him.

He watched his father duck in to another room and return with another blanket and pillow for Sam. Sam was still sitting up in the sofa and seemed to be a million miles away. Dean knew that look on Sam's face. He had seen it often this past year. It was the one that basically guaranteed his brother would wake up screaming about two hours after he fell asleep.

Sam flinched when Dad touched his shoulder but he lay back in the sofa without argument when John nudged him to lie down. Sam kicked his shoes off and also got comfortable. A second pillow appeared to place between Sam's heavy cast and his chest. Then Dad covered him with the blanket.

John looked back to Dean. "Son do you need a pillow for your leg?"

"No, I'm good."

"Do you want the TV on?"

"No, unless Sam wants it on."

"No, I'm good," Sam replied.

"All right, you boys get some rest and we'll have dinner when you wake up and then you can check out the rest of the house."

"Okay, Dad," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

John took a last look at his boys and then went into the kitchen to read the newspaper.

"Dean," Sam called softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about your car."

"It wasn't your fault, Sam. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's okay. You were in shock is all."

"Doesn't matter now. Get some sleep Sam. It's been a long day."

Sam nodded and closed his eyes.


	4. Family Bonding

Chapter 4: Family Bonding

Dean was pulled from his restful slumber by a sound he was quite familiar with. He opened his eyes and sure enough there was Sammy rolling his head back and forth muttering in his sleep. He was clearly engulfed in a nightmare.

"Dean. Dean!"

Dean was about to get up and go to Sammy when John rushed into the room.

"Stay," John ordered. "I got him." He sat on the edge of the sofa and shook Sam by his shoulders.

"DEAN!" Sam screamed and bolted up in the sofa.

"Sam!" John called.

Sam took one look at John and completely lost it.

"No, stay away from me!" Sam was back peddling and was literally climbing over the arm of the sofa as John tried to grab him so he didn't hurt himself.

"Oh shit," Dean exclaimed as he realized what was happening. Sam was still caught in the dream. Sam had been dreaming of the possession.

"Sam, calm down," Dad ordered.

"What did you do to Dean? Where's Dean!" Sam was just about to fall out of the sofa when Dean was suddenly behind him grabbing him.

"Sam, I'm right here. It's over. The demon is gone! It's just Dad."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam, it's okay. We're all safe now."

Sam visible relaxed and raised a trembling hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. Dean continued to stand behind Sam and kept his arm wrapped around Sam's chest while Sam's breathing returned to normal.

John looked up at Dean. "Is it always this bad?"

"No. Mostly he just wakes up with a jolt, but he was dreaming of…"

"I know what he was dreaming about," John interrupted. He couldn't even find the words to describe what it was like to see Sam absolutely terrified of him.

"Anyway, most of the dreams aren't this bad. They were right after Jess, but not lately, especially since he started having the visions. I guess you could say his worst nightmares now happen when he's awake."

"I'm sitting right here," Sam said.

"Yeah?" Dean replied.

"So you're talking like I'm not even in the room."

"Once he starts bitching you know the worst is over," Dean grinned. "Dad where's the bathroom?"

"Through the kitchen," John answered.

Dean shoved Sam forward off the arm of the sofa and into the seat and then let go to head to the bathroom.

"Son, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm sorry if I freaked you out."

"I'm fine," John replied. "Sam, you do know that the demon, it was controlling me. I never would have done that to you or Dean."

"I know," Sam replied. "Actually, I really do know. About six months ago I was possessed by a crazy doctor. I…I actually shot Dean in the chest with rock salt."

"How did Dean react to that?"

"He was pissed…not because I shot him I don't think, but because Ellicott made me say things that I never would have said out loud to him. I mean, they were my thoughts and feelings initially but he twisted them, he…he hurt Dean in the worst way…I hurt Dean in the worst possible way."

"Sam, Dean knows how much you care about him."

Sam just nodded. His stomach picked that moment to growl. John smiled.

"I've got dinner ready."

"You cooked?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing," Sam grinned.

"My cooking isn't that bad."

"I didn't say anything."

"Maybe, but you're thinking it."

"Don't tell me we have two psychics in the family now," Dean said as he came back into the living room.

"Nope, still just one," John replied. "You two come on to the table."

John went straight to the stove and took the lid off of a pot. Sam saw it was soup and opened the cupboard doors looking for bowls. He set three bowls and three spoons on the table.

"Dean, in that cabinet over there is a box of crackers. Grab them for me."

Dean found the box and set it on the table. John filled the three bowls. Dean opened the fridge to get drinks. He saw Pepsi, milk, and orange juice, but what really drew his attention was what he didn't see. There wasn't a beer anywhere in sight. It struck him that his father really had laid off the liquor and Dean was glad for that. He grabbed the gallon of milk and carried it over to the table where he poured three glasses.

They ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, each feeling the awkwardness of the situation. Finally it was John who broke the silence.

"Dean, Chuck said you could work at the garage too, if you wanted. You'd have to wait for the cast to come off, but it's a job if you want."

"Thanks, I'll probably take it. Do you think he'll pay me under the table too?"

"He already said he would. Also, Dean, I want you to stay away from the bars."

"Excuse me?"

"No hustling. I don't know how long we are going to be here and I don't want to have trouble or the law showing up at my doorstep."

"How long did you lease the house for?" Sam asked.

"Six months."

"Six months!" Dean gasped. "Dad, Sam and I'll be on our feet again in a few weeks."

"I know."

"So why so long?" Dean looked positively dumbfounded. The last time they had lived anywhere for six entire months he had been about eight years old.

"Because I don't know what exactly is going to happen in the immediate future," John replied.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Well, we need to earn money to get Dean a car. I want you and Dean to get back into peek condition. Sam, don't take this personal but three weeks in a coma was not exactly a good thing. You are skin and bones right now and you lost a lot of muscle. Even after that cast comes off I wouldn't want to take you on a hunt for pixies until you've had a chance to bulk up again, let alone this demon. Also, we are going to have to do a lot more research before we plan another attack on this thing. And then…" John looked like he wanted to say something more but his voice went silent.

"And what?" Sam asked.

"And I want to have the chance to spend some time with my boys again. I thought maybe we could hang out, be a family again."

"Why?"

John was shocked by the harsh edge to the word Sam had just asked him.

"Why what?"

Sam set his spoon down with a clank. "After all these years of you being our drill sergeant instead of our father now you suddenly want to change roles and be a dad again, just like that." Sam snapped his fingers as if to make his point. "You rent this house, tell us you've quit drinking, and say you want to spend time with us and expect everything to just be forgiven? You abandoned Dean. You hid from us for a year. You sent the two of us on jobs that almost got us killed. We needed you in Lawrence! Dean needed you when he was dying. I needed you when Dean was dying. You pop in to say hello in Chicago and then you're gone again. You show up in Colorado not because you were looking for us but because your old buddy Elkins was dead. The only reason you showed your face to us that night at all was because we had the letter. But hey, it's okay now because John Winchester has decided to stop playing sergeant and now wants to be father of the year."

John closed his eyes and sighed. He waited for Dean to intervene. Usually when Sammy started ranting at him Dean was always able to rein Sammy back in. So, he was more than just a little surprised when he opened his eyes to look at Dean and saw not only was Dean not coming to the rescue on this one but he was actually waiting for John to respond to Sam accusations.

"I failed you boys as a father. I know that. Everything you said is true Sam. I abandoned you both. I lied to you both. I can't go back and fix the past, but we are alive and here today. When I saw that mangled car I knew that none of us should have made it out of that wreck. The three of us should have died that night, but for some reason we didn't. I don't know if God was watching out for us or if it was Mary, but it was definitely a miracle. We have another chance…another chance to be a family.

"And Sam, to answer your question, no I'm not going to stop being a drill sergeant. I don't think I could stop that even if I really wanted to. It's too much a part of who I am after all of these years. Besides, we know the demon is still out there. Like it or not a battle is coming, but the reasons are different now."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"For twenty-two years my primary reason for going after that thing was to avenge your mother's death. I didn't care if I hurt you boys along the way. I didn't care if you two had a normal life. I loved Mary with every fiber of my being, just as much as you loved Jess. Unfortunately for me, when Mary died I didn't have a brother like Dean to pull me through the worst of it. When I told my brother what happened that night he told me I was crazy and that I needed to get help. He even recommended taking you boys off my hands until I was seeing things more clearly. So I was alone in my grief with two small children who were depending on me."

"So if avenging mom isn't you main reason for hunting any more then what is?" Sam asked.

"You," John replied. "I'm not fighting for Mary any more. I'm fighting to save you. You're never going to be free to live your life until this thing is dead. It's going to keep coming after you. So yes, I'm going to still be a drill sergeant. I'm going to give orders and whip you two back into shape, but maybe I can be a father too. It isn't going to be easy and I know I'm going to make mistakes, but I would like the chance to try."

Dean was ready to nod his head yes when Sam spoke up once more. "There are going to be some conditions."

John actually smirked at that comment. "Such as?"

Sam cleared his throat…obviously a little shocked that John was even going to hear him out.

"Dean and I have to be allowed to share our opinions without you jumping down our throats. I'm not saying you have to necessarily agree with them, but you have to hear us out."

"Okay."

Dean was floored. If his eyebrows rose any higher on his head he would have looked like a cartoon character.

"Also…"

"There's more?" John asked.

"Yes, once a week we actually have to take a night off. We have to do something fun, whether it's the movies, hanging out at a bar playing darts, or just relaxing at home not looking for something supernatural to hunt."

"Sammy," John grumbled.

"Don't tell me I'm being unreasonable," Sam interrupted. "For twenty-two years you missed birthdays, holidays, school functions, and the chance to watch us grow up. You want to be a father now, fine, one night a week is family night."

"Fine, you can have Wednesdays."

"Why Wednesdays?" Dean asked.

"Because we will probably need Fridays for hunting, especially if we are going out of town for the weekend. Also, Wednesday is my early shift. I get home by 4:00, so I'll have more time for you boys."

"Wait…so you're agreeing to this?" Dean asked, looking for all the world like he was watching aliens playing poker.

"Yeah, I guess I am," John replied, and slowly his grimace turned into a grin. "I am agreeing to Sammy's conditions."

"And it's Sam."

"Wrong, it's Sammy. It's always going to be Sammy so get over that one already," Dad replied, which caused Dean to laugh and choke on his soup.

"Careful there, Deanie, we wouldn't want you to spew across the table," Sam griped.

Dean's reply was to flip him the bird and keep laughing.


	5. Midnight Musings

**Chapter 5: Midnight Musings**

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter is so small. During the week it is hard to find time to write. I'll be sure to make the next chapter longer.

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Two nights later John lay in his bed. For some reason he wasn't able to fall asleep. He suspected that part of that was because tomorrow he would be returning to work and leaving the boys alone. It was ironic really. He had been away from them for a year and almost never stopped to think about their safety. Dean's occasional voice mails served as a reminder that they were safe, somewhere, and together, looking out for each other. That had left him free to focus solely on finding the demon. Sure he had missed his sons, but Jack and Jim had done a pretty good job of keeping him company when the loneliness really became too much to bare.

So now here he was, lying in bed fretting because tomorrow he was going to go to his job which was about a ten minute drive away, and he would be gone for about nine hours. But, then, that was exactly the reason why he had left his sons behind in the first place. If he had to spend all his time worrying about them then he couldn't spend all his time focusing on the job. So like a selfish bastard he had cut them loose. Well, technically he had only cut Dean loose since Sammy had already left. It was without a doubt one of the cruelest things he had ever done, and yet it had been necessary. Okay, so only he had thought it necessary, but still, he'd had good intentions.

God he could go for a drink right now. He remembered that there was a small convenience store just at the corner of their street, but he couldn't..._wouldn't_...do that. He had made a promise to the boys and any ground he had gained with Sammy this past week would be instantly lost if the boys found him drunk or hung-over in the morning. Nope, he had to stay sober.

So liquor was out but he definitely wasn't falling asleep any time soon. He threw back the covers and quietly went to the kitchen. He didn't flip on the light because the boys' room was off the kitchen, as was the bathroom, and their door was half way open. His room was off the living room. He opened the fridge and rummaged through its contents. Pepsi would give him a sugar rush and keep him awake, ditto for the juice. He grabbed the milk and pulled it out. Next he got one of the clean glasses Dean had washed earlier and filled it up. Then he remembered to put the milk back in the fridge before sitting down.

He sat at the table and put his head in his hands. He couldn't really explain this anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. The boys were fine. They were sleeping peacefully, well at least for the moment. The past two nights had been a rude introduction for John as to just how horrifying Sam's nightmares were. The first night the kid woke up screaming John had literally fallen from his bed in his attempt to get to his sons. By the time he untangled his legs from the sheet and ran into the room Dean had the situation under control.

His eldest had already awoken Sam from his nightmare and was rubbing his back. John had been about to enter the room but Dean had held up a hand basically telling John to back off. Okay, so Dean hadn't really told John to back off but he couldn't help but feel like he had. So, John had just stood there in the doorway watching as Dean comforted his brother helping him to fall back to sleep relatively quickly. Once Sam was out Dean walked back to his bed, climbed in, and went to sleep.

John was learning more and more that when it came to his family, he really was a third wheel. He wasn't going to give up though, which was why he had agreed to Sammy's conditions. No sooner had he agreed he regretted it, but it was too late now. He just hoped he could live up to them. How on earth was he going to not get pissed when the boys questioned his orders? And yet he said they could do it. And the Wednesday night thing? Good grief. All that wasted time, for what? To go to the movies? To play a game of monopoly? Maybe he could try and talk Sammy into having it every other week.

Still, over all the weekend had been pretty good. They just stayed home and relaxed, something John didn't even think he knew how to do. They watched television and the two DVD's he had bought. Sam had popped a bag of popcorn and insisted on pulling down the shades when they watched the scary movie. Later John did the crossword puzzle while Sammy read his book and Dean looked through car magazines. They even cooked together. It had been nice. Even the "I hate normal" Dean seemed to enjoy the time spent together.

Now he would go back to work tomorrow and the illusion of normal would be over. It was time to get back to earning a living and starting research into what was still their number one problem...the demon that plagued their family.

John downed his glass of milk and got up to put the glass in the sink. He was about to go back to his room or maybe turn on the small television he had got from the pawn shop when he turned and walked over to the boys' door. He slid the door open a fraction more and paused to look at them.

Dean was asleep on top of his covers wearing the same pair of sweat pants and t-shirt he had worn during the day. He looked peaceful but John noticed his one hand was up near his pillow, just a fraction away from where he kept his long hunting knife. Even asleep the kid was on guard, ready for attack. As usual Dean had the bed closest to the door. Dean had carried on that habit since the time when Sam was just a baby. Dean had always been Sam's first line of defense.

Then John looked at Sam. He face seemed peaceful enough but his body was twisted wildly in his bed covers as if he had tossed and turned a great deal. Sammy's posture in the bed was the opposite of Dean's. He wasn't on guard, but then he didn't have to be. If anything intruded on the room Dean would get it first. Instead, Sammy was on his side, facing Dean, ready to provide support to his brother.

Sometimes John wondered if it was a good thing that they boys needed each other so much. He worried about what would happen when the dreaded day came and one of them was killed. What on earth would happen to the survivor? For a moment he actually thought about the possibility of sending them out on separate hunts to work alone and gain some independence but he knew Dean would never agree to it. Hell, he doubted he would agree to it. He knew Dean could hunt alone if needed but he worried about Sam.

Sam was a magnet for trouble, not because he wasn't good, but because things always sought him out. John had always assumed it was because Sam was the youngest and the things they went after sought out the weakest link or perhaps the one with the greatest life force. Now, after twenty-two years John finally understood the truth of the situation. Sammy was a damn psychic. He didn't hold it against the boy, but it was definitely a complication for their line of work.

John was about to walk away to return to his own room when Sammy began to mumble. Then the boy bolted up in his bed but didn't cry out. John waited. He knew not to rush into the room for fear of Dean mistaking him as a threat. Dean remained asleep, though. Sammy looked over to Dean's bed confirming his brother was there and then laid back down. Finally Sam looked over and saw John at the door.

"Dad?" he whispered.

"You okay, Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dad. Did I wake you?"

"No, I was up getting a glass of milk."

"Oh."

"Goodnight, son."

"Goodnight, sir."

John was about to close the door when he saw Dean open his eyes to look at Sam. John smiled as he realized Dean had been awake probably from the moment he had stepped up to the door. John should have realized that Dean would have felt his presence almost immediately...after all, John had trained him to be that way. He gave Dean a quick nod of the head and Dean returned the motion before repositioning himself in his bed and closing his eyes once more.

Back in his own room John slipped between the covers once more and felt that sleep would finally come to him.


	6. The Library

**Chapter 6: The Library**

**A/N: **Here is that longer chapter I promised. I admit this one is a little boring since it's one of those transition chapters that are written to support the next one so hopefully I don't put too many people to sleep. Again, thanks for all the review and positive support.

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John set his dirty dishes in the sink. "Thanks for making breakfast, Dean."

"No problem," Dean replied then swallowed his last gulp of coffee.

Sam stood up and picked up his and Dean's dirty dishes with his one good arm.

"You got that, Sammy?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Well boys, what are you planning on doing today?" John asked.

"I was going to walk to the library," Sam announced. "I want to go ahead and start doing some research."

"Can't you do that from the house?" John asked. "You have your laptop and we have a phone line."

"The library's connection will be faster, and besides, not everything can be found on the internet."

"Do you mind if I come with you?" Dean asked.

"Dean, I really don't need a baby sitter,' Sam huffed.

"Dude, chill, I'm not coming to hold your hand. I'm coming because I have a cast on my freaking leg so I can't go to work at the garage with Dad _and_ because I have _nothing_ else to do. It's not like there are any witnesses to question or an abandoned building to go check out. Hell, there isn't even a grave in need of digging up."

"Okay, okay, I get your point," Sam chuckled.

"All right, well you boys be careful. I've got to get going. I won't be back home until 5:30. I want you to check in with me later. Give me a call by noon."

Dean and Sam both looked at their father with a smirk.

"What?" John asked.

"You want us to check in with you?" Dean grinned. "Dad, we're not kids. You do realize that don't you?"

"Like I said before, you're my kids, and I don't appreciate you questioning my orders. Things are different than they were a few months ago. Do I have to remind you that we are constantly in danger?""

"Dad, he wasn't questioning your orders. He was just making a joke," Sam replied.

"Well this isn't a joking matter," John insisted.

"Maybe not but you don't have to yell at Dean. His whole life all he's ever done was obey you. He never lets his guard down and he doesn't need you to keep reminding him like he's some little kid." Sam was through with letting his father push Dean around. Enough was enough already.

John gave both his boys a hard stare and then caught the look that passed between the two. He realized he was having his first test and he had just failed. _Shit!_ In a much calmer voice he tried to explain. "You're right; however, I would appreciate the courtesy of a phone call so that I know you are safe. Dean I'm proud of the way you protect yourself and Sam, but this time it's just not the same. That demon took all three of us on…and we lost. We damn near lost our lives as well. So please, just…_call me_."

"We will, Dad," Dean replied, ready to put an end to the tensions in the house. Sam also nodded his agreement.

John pulled on his coat and picked up his lunch box. He looked at his sons once more. "Sammy."

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm trying, son. Just, be patient with me. This…this isn't easy for me."

"I know, Dad."

"All right, well I'll talk to you later. Oh, wait." John dug in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He fished out two twenties and handed them to Dean. "Take a cab to the library, or if you want to walk take the money so if your leg starts to hurt too much you can at least take a taxi home."

"Thanks," Dean said and shoved the bills in his shirt pocket.

Finally John left and Dean turned to look at Sam. Sam had turned on the laptop and was connecting to the internet. "Dude, you have to lighten up a little bit."

"Dean, Dad had no right ragging on you like that."

"Maybe not, but you have to realize that he's not going to change over night. Face it, Dad is who he is and most of the time that means he's an asshole, but he's our asshole. He is trying. I mean, when was the last time the three of us spent a weekend like this one? He didn't even mention hunting for three whole days."

"I know," Sam grinned. "I'm sure he broke a world's record in there somewhere." He clicked the mouse several times and pulled up a map of their town.

"Exactly, so don't bust his chops every time he screws up."

"Fine, I'll save my chop busting for the really big screw-ups," Sam replied, which caused Dean to just roll his eyes, but Sam noticed the small smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"The library is about a mile from here. Do you want to walk or ride?"

"Let's walk," Dean said. "It's probably better if we can save the money or maybe we can use it for lunch."

"Sounds good to me," Sam replied. He quickly jotted down the directions and shut off the computer.

He opened the closet door and pulled out his and Dean's coats. It was good his winter coat was a little large. With Dean's help he tugged the material over his cast.

The air outside was crisp but not overly cold. It was springtime but still at least another month before the temperature would be truly warm.

Sam made a point of slowing his pace. With his long legs he usually moved pretty quickly even when he wasn't trying too, but Dean's cast meant he really had to slow it down. Dean for his part was trying to keep up but the cast was a hindrance. It came up to his knee but that wasn't the problem. The problem was he couldn't bend his ankle at all so he hobbled rather like a penguin waddling.

Sam pulled out his directions and checked the street signs. They made it to Crooks, the main street and now only had to go down about five city blocks to get to the library. Sam was actually quite pleased to see that they really weren't in a town as much as they were in a very small city. He hadn't realized that until this very moment.

The accident had taken place about thirty minutes away from there and he'd spent weeks at the hospital unconscious and after he left the hospital all he had done was go to the garage and then to the house. This was the first time he was getting a look at his home for the next six months.

There were lots of business offices, restaurants large and small, and a decent selection of retail stores. The passed the city hall building which was small but ornate and then a small park with a fountain, several benches, and a statue of two civil war soldiers on horseback.

The library was just passed the park and Sam could imagine himself relaxing on one of the benches reading a book and feeding the pigeons. He was suddenly happy that Dad had signed a six month lease. He liked this place.

Dean for his part took all the scenery in stride. He knew better than to get attached to any one place. Sure, this town was better than most they had lived in but still, they would eventually be leaving, probably never to return. He did notice several bars and night clubs. At least he would be able to find some entertainment while here.

They walked up the stairs to the library's main door. The building itself was a knock off of Greek and Roman architecture. Inside the décor resembled something of a man's study with lots of brown wood tones and chairs in hunter green and burgundy vinyl positioned next to long mahogany colored tables.

"Nice," Sam commented which earned him a look from Dean. "What?"

"It's a library."

"Yeah, and it's a nice one.

"Whatever, so what are we looking for?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "Stuff on demons, stuff to kill a demon, something on how to repel them, etc, etc."

"Oh yeah, that's going to be a piece of cake. I'm sure this place has an entire bookcase devoted to the study of demonology."

"Dean, even if the books aren't here all we have to do is request them and they will order them from another library and send them here for us to check out."

"Oh, well, we still need an actual list of books."

"That's what the computers are for. Just type in your subject or topic and start looking for book titles that sound like something that might help us."

Sam plopped down in front of the computer and typed in demonology for his first search. Dean sat by and watched as Sam scanned the list of potential books and references. He didn't bother to type on the other computer. Sam was research boy. No one did it better so Dean figured he'd let Sammy do his thing. Next Sam typed in 'repelling demons' and a more specific list of book titles appeared.

"We don't want to repel it," Dean reminded. "We want to kill it."

"I know, but there might be something in these that will help us." Sam noticed that some of the titles were actually located in the library here so he printed out the page with the call number for them. Next he typed in killing demons. This search proved to be rather useless since the only thing that came up were books on computer gaming and fictional novels. "Looks like we are starting with what I've found so far," Sam announced.

"Any of this stuff here or do we have to order all of it?"

"Actually, two of these books are here according to this, unless they've been checked out. I want to ask for the other two to be brought in."

Dean followed Sam over to the counter. The librarian was an older woman, probably in her mid fifties. Looking at her you could tell that she had been rather beautiful when she was younger. Even now she was rather fetching with her salt and pepper hair and her neutral toned makeup. She stood at about five foot six and wore a pair of glasses that enlarged her brown eyes.

"Excuse me," Sam said politely.

"Yes, may I help you?" she asked and set down the papers she had been looking over.

"Yes actually. I need to apply for a library card and I would like to request two books that aren't currently at this location."

Dean smiled to himself as he watched his little brother. Sam was always such the perfect gentleman. There was something about him that made people literally trip over themselves wanting to help him, especially older women.

"Well, I can help you with both of those things."

"Thank you so much, uh…" Sam read the name on her tag, "Ms. Alice."

She smiled at him. "You're welcome. Now, I'm going to need a photo id and a second piece of identification like a phone bill or gas bill to prove residency."

"Oh," Sam replied and furrowed his eyebrows. "I have a photo id but I'm afraid I don't have a utility bill. My family just moved here about two weeks ago, not to mention the bills would come in my father's name and not mine."

Dean watched as Alice studied Sam for a moment and then she gave a small smile.

"I guess I can bend the rules just this once. You seem like an honest young fellow," she replied.

"Thank you," Sam responded with a grateful sigh. "I really appreciate this."

Alice pulled out several forms and Sam began to fill them out.

"Might I ask what happened to you two boys?" Alice asked.

"We were involved in a car accident about four weeks ago," Sam replied.

"How dreadful."

"Was anyone else hurt besides you two?"

"Our Dad was also with us but luckily he was okay. As for the driver of the vehicle that hit us, well he ran away. The police don't even know who it was since it was a stolen vehicle."

"Such a shame," Alice said.

Dean couldn't believe how Sam could get people to eat out of the palm of his hand. He wondered why Sam didn't have that same finesse with younger ladies. When it came to girls his own age Sam became nervous and shy. Then Alice said the one thing that would render her helpless to Sam's apparent innocence and helplessness.

"Your poor mother must have been frantic to have her entire family involved in a car crash."

Sam looked down for just a second and then back up at her with those puppy dog eyes that he didn't even know he possessed but used with experienced technique.

"I'm afraid that our mom died when I was six months old. I never knew her."

"I'm so sorry," Alice replied with genuine sorrow in her voice. "It must have been hard for you boys, growing up with just a father. Did he remarry?"

"No," Dean said. "But he did the best he could." Sam nodded.

Sam handed her his real driver's license and his Stanford student id. Alice then checked all his information and signed off on his library card form.

"I'll be back in just one moment," she said and went into a back room.

"Dude, why did you use your real id?" Dean asked.

"I didn't see a reason not to," Sam replied. "We aren't up to anything illegal."

"Still, you just made a paper trail."

"I got a library card. Besides, I'm not wanted by the cops or anything. I have a clean record."

Dean knew Sam was right but it still bothered him. Somehow giving out their real information made him feel vulnerable and he didn't like it.

"You know, Dean, I could try and clear your record for you."

"What? How?"

"I did it once before…for Dad."

"When?" Somehow the fact that Sammy had done something so illegal was shocking to him.

"I did it when I was applying to Stanford. I needed that scholarship desperately but being the son of a man who was wanted in the state of Nevada for suspicion of murder was going to make it impossible."

"Oh yeah, I remember that job. He killed that werewolf, which of course turned back into a naked human being, and had to run for it just as the cops came. That was a close one."

"Anyway, I hacked into the system and cleaned Dad's record."

"Just like that?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, just like that. Fixing yours will be trickier since you're technically dead, but I might be able to do it."

"Dude, you could have told me this months ago."

"Well, I needed to wait for enough time to pass before I tried it. I didn't want to draw attention to us accidentally, but now it's been almost a year, the charges were dropped against Rebecca's brother, and the case is closed. No one would notice any tampering now."

Dean couldn't reply since Alice returned with a card to hand to Sam.

"Now, fill out this paper here to request your book titles. They usually take about five days to arrive."

"Okay." Sam wrote down the information on the two books he needed on the form and handed it to Alice. He watched the expression on her face change slightly as she read the titles.

"A Field Guide to Demons, Fairies, Fallen Angels and Other Subversive Spirits by Carol K. Mack and Dinah Mackand the Manual on Demonology: Diary of an Exorcist by Roy, Sr. Bryant. That is definitely some interesting reading you have chosen," she pointed out.

"It's actually for a law class I am taking at the moment. I'm doing a paper on how the occult and Satanism is affecting the legal system," Sam explained.

"Oh. Well, like I said, they should be here in about five days."

"That's fine," Sam said. "Thank you."

He turned back to Dean. "We need to grab the other two books that are here and then we can leave."

"What are the other two books?"

"The History of Witchcraft and Demonology by Montague Summers, and The Black Arts: An Absorbing Account of Witchcraft, Demonology, Astrology, and Other Mystical Practices Throughout the Ages by Richard Cavendish."

"That's a mouthful," Dean replied. "Lead the way."

Sam searched the stacks and was glad to see that both books were right where they belonged. Back at the desk they checked them out and then headed out into the fresh air once more.

"When we get home I want to call Bobby again. I want to ask him to send me The Key of Solomon once more, not to mention anything else he might have that could be useful."

"I'm sure he'll send it. He said he would be glad to help."

They were just passing the park when Sam suddenly grabbed his forehead with his good hand.

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean called. He knew Sam was about to have a vision from the look of pain on his face. Dean grabbed his brother by his arm and his side and guided him over to the park bench and sat him down. Sam walked of his own accord but it was obvious he didn't know what was going on. At the moment his brother was somewhere else.

Dean waited as patiently as he knew how to do, which meant he was growing more and more anxious with every passing second. Finally Sam slumped against him and drew a couple of ragged breaths.

"Sammy, talk to me. What did you see?"

"Dean…call Dad," was all Sam mumbled before closing his eyes.


	7. Foreshadowing

**Chapter 7: Foreshadowing**

A/N: Well, here is that more exciting chapter that I promised. Enjoy!

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Sam was listening to Dean explain that Bobby would be happy to help when suddenly a blinding pain ripped through his forehead. For a second he actually thought that his head my split open. Never had a vision hurt this intensely. He could hear Dean calling him but he couldn't respond. Someone grabbed him and he knew instantly it was Dean but he was unable to even open his eyes. He felt his body being pulled from the inside as if he were suddenly traveling through space and time.

_Two men were standing inside what looked to be a run down cabin. Sam suddenly recognized the run down cabin. It was the very one where they had faced the demon the night they had almost died. _

_One man was large and wore a black t-shirt with a black leather vest. He looked very much like a biker with his black curly hair and scruffy bread. The other man was smaller and wore clothes that were more fashionable and professional._

"_Master, why do you insist on being in here?" the young professional asked._

"_Because!" the biker bellowed._ "_This is where it happened! This is where those insignificant fools bested me. BESTED ME!"_

_The other man instantly back tracked and lowered his head in submission. "But Master, surely this place is upsetting for you to be in."_

"_On the contrary, I can still feel the young one's power here. Even the remnants of it strengthen me. If it weren't for that hovering and interfering brother, Sam would be ready for me. I should have taken Maxwell when I had the chance. Instead I waited for his rage to finish consuming him but by then it was too late. Never would I have dreamed Samuel would interfere. Never would I have imagined that Maxwell would take his own life because of Samuel."_

"_What of the others?" _

"_They are not ready! I am not ready. It disgusts me to be in this body but the previous owner was a drunken fool and is in no way capable of being a threat to me. I admit that damned colt weakened me considerably. Damn Samuel. For the first time in three thousand years..."_

As much as Sam wanted the vision to end to ease the pain he was enduring he fought to hold on to it. He knew something important was about to be gained but the vision drifted away. Sam opened his eyes and sure enough Dean was mere inches from his face.

"Sammy, talk to me. What did you see?"

"Dean…call Dad." Sam fought to stay awake but the vision had taken too much out of him. Not only did he have the migraine from hell but he felt a level of exhaustion that he had never experienced before from a vision. Against his will his eyes closed and he surrendered.

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"Sammy, damn it, don't do this," Dean begged as his brother passed out against him. Dean kept an arm wrapped around him tightly so Sam didn't fall out of the bench. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial that would connect him to his father.

"Come on, Dad, pick up!"

John did after several rings. "Hey, Dean. How's the research going?"

"Dad, I need your help. Sam had a vision and he passed out. We are sitting on a bench in the park at Crooks and…uh…" he looked around quickly for a street sign, "and Jackson."

"Okay, hang tight. I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't move!"

"Dad, I've got a cast on my leg. Trust me, I'm not going to just pick Sam up and toss him over my shoulder. We'll be here."

John hung up without saying another word. Dean closed his phone and put it back in his pocket. He looked at Sam's resting face.

"Little brother, you sure know how to keep life interesting." He sat back in the bench keeping an arm around Sam. Sam's head was lying on Dean's shoulder. Two girls walked past and looked at Dean funny. He suddenly realized just how gay he and Sam looked. "Shit Sam, you owe me for this one. I ought ta' throw your ass on the grass and pretend I don't know you."

Sam was completely unaware of their awkward position or the mild threat Dean tossed his way.

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"Chuck, I'm gonna take my lunch break now," John called as he was already walking towards the door. "My son just called and something is wrong with Sammy. He's having some kind of complication."

"No problem. Just try to be back in an hour. I hope your boy is okay."

"Thanks, so do I."

John jumped into his truck and raced from the parking lot onto the road. He had to admit that Dean's call had freaked him out. The last time Sam had a vision it was to tell them that the demon was coming. As much as John wanted to end this damn thing he had to admit that they weren't ready to confront it right now. Sam and Dean were still injured. They were down to a single bullet for the colt and there was no back up plan in place. No, they definitely were not ready to face that son of a bitch again.

There was another concern as well. Why did Sam pass out from this vision? As far as John knew, that had never happened before. He was aware that the visions gave Sam terrible headaches, but losing consciousness? Crap, what if Sam had a vision in the middle of a hunt and passed out? The kid would be completely helpless. John was going to have to talk to Missouri about this. He didn't usually like to involve outsiders in family matters but this was different. He was willing to ask for help if it meant protecting his children.

After several minutes John turned onto Crooks and slowed down a bit to avoid getting pulled over. He wasn't entirely sure where Jackson was but he remembered vaguely passing the park one day and hoped he was heading in the right direction. He breathed a sigh of relief after going about eight blocks east and seeing the park. He carefully made a U-turn and parked his truck along the curb.

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Dean felt like he had been waiting for his father to show up forever. A second later he forgot all about his Dad when he finally heard a soft groan come from Sam.

"Hey little brother, are you planning on waking up any time soon?" Dean asked casually.

"Dean, god my head hurts."

"I would imagine so. You had a vision that knocked you flat on your ass," Dean pointed out.

"I passed out?" Sam asked groggily.

"Yeah, you did. How are you feeling?"

"Honestly, like shit, but I'll live." Sam pulled away from Dean and managed to sit up in the bench. He rested his elbows on his knees and then laid his head in his hands.

"Sam, what did you see? You've never passed out from a vision before."

"Did you call Dad?"

"Yeah, he's on his way. He should be here any second actually."

"Wait for Dad to get here. Then I'll tell you everything I saw."

No sooner were the words out of Sam's mouth they saw their Dad's pickup truck making an illegal U-turn and parking at the curb. John jumped from the vehicle and literally ran to where they were sitting.

"Sammy?" John asked kneeling down in front of Sam. "Are you okay? Dean said you passed out!"

"I'll be fine. It was a vision. I'd never had one that painful before."

John had a seat next to Sam and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Why was this one different? Why did it make you pass out?" John asked.

"I think it was because I was trying to hold on to it. Usually they come and go and I let them happen, but this time I didn't want it to end. I was trying to get more information. I guess it was too much for me."

John nodded in understanding. "What did you see?"

"I saw two men having a conversation, only they weren't men. They were possessed. Dad, one of them, a guy who looks like a biker, it was him…the demon."

"Who was the other?" John asked.

"I don't know. I'm guessing someone like Meg maybe."

"What were they talking about?" Dean asked.

"The demon, he was angry."

"About what?" Dean prodded.

"Me," Sam replied. "He was mad, furious, that I shot him, hurt him. Also, he was really pissed that I killed Max."

"Whoa, you didn't kill Max," Dean interjected. "Max killed himself. You tried to save him!"

Sam shook his head. "The demon doesn't see it that way. Max was almost ready for whatever the demon had planned. He said he was waiting for Max's rage to finish consuming him, but that he had waited too long because I came along and messed it up."

"Sammy, what does the demon want you for?" John asked. Sam could see the apprehension in his face.

"I'm not totally sure. I think he wants our bodies."

"So the demon is a pervert," Dean interrupted sarcastically to cover up the real fear that was flowing through his veins.

"Dean!" John warned.

"Not like that," Sam replied. "I think…I'm just guessing, but I think it is literally choosing at birth his future hosts. He's looking for children who have some type of power that will help to enhance his own when he possesses them."

"Sam, is he coming after you?" Dean asked.

"Not yet. He said I'm not ready. He said that you kept interfering."

"Fuck yeah! He's not going to get you Sam. I'll _never_ let that happen!"

Sam just smiled at Dean's demonstration of love. "I think I learned something else. I think I know why it was impervious to holy water."

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"This thing said that it had been around for three thousand years. Dad, this demon predates Christianity. That's why it knew how to summon the Deva's. He is as old, if not older, than they are. Christian rules don't apply."

"Great, so that means no holy water or Latin. Hell, we can't even exorcise the thing."

"Maybe we can if we can find some older texts or older incantations to recite. Dean, the guy you called when we were Chicago, the one who knew what that weird symbol was that you made from duct tape with the blood splatters, you need to call him, find out what else he knows."

"Will do. Come on. We need to get you home," Dean said and started to stand up pulling Sam with him.

"Wait, there's one more thing."

"What?" John asked.

"I know where it is."

Dean suddenly sat back down and looked Sam in the face. It wasn't Dean who asked the next question though, it was John.

"Where is it?"

"It's at the cabin…the one where you…it…attacked us. It's there because it says that traces of my power remain there and it helps it feel better. It's weak, Dad. The colt really hurt it. It's vulnerable."

"It may be vulnerable, but we still don't know how to attack it," Dean pointed out.

"We have the last bullet," Sam said.

"No," John suddenly said.

"Dad?" Sam questioned.

"I said no. We aren't ready. You and Dean are still in casts. We have one bullet and no back up plan should the bullet miss. No, I'll not let it hurt you two again."

"But we may never be able to locate it ever again," Sam said. "This might be our one and only chance to get the drop on it."

"I don't think so. Sammy, this is now the second vision you've had about this demon. This demon may have selected you at birth for some purpose, but something else has also selected you too."

"What?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," John replied truthfully. "But somehow I think it is your destiny to kill this thing. You have some kind of link with this demon that lets you see where it is and what it is about to do. Something out there wants you to destroy it."

"No!" Dean snapped. "There is no way on earth I'm letting Sammy go after this thing by himself and don't you dare try and tell me this is his destiny, because even if it is, I'm not going to allow it. Hell, I'll book us a one way trip to the opposite side of the planet before I'll let that happen."

"Dean, I won't be facing it alone," Sam said knowingly. "You'll be there standing right beside me."

Suddenly Dean stood up from the bench and began to pace back and forth. Both Sam and John watched him. Each could see the anxiety simmering just beneath the surface. Finally Dean turned toward them, his voice a desperate plea.

"Why do we have to go after this thing again? Shit, can't we just admit that we failed this one? There are plenty of other things out there to hunt, to protect people from. I think it's time we give up this fucking quest before it gets us all killed. This demon…it's just too powerful."

"Dean, we can't give up," John said.

"Why?" Dean demanded. "It's not like we've actually been hired or ordered by God himself to take care of this thing."

"Dean we have to do it. There is no one else who will," John explained.

"Dad, finding this demon…it's not worth it. If the price for revenge is your or Sammy's life then the hell with it. It's just not worth it!"

"Dean, listen to me. I'm not going to do anything that puts you or your brother in jeopardy."

Dean actually laughed at those words.

"Damn it, Dean. This is a dangerous job. Any hunt has the potential to be a fatal hunt, but that's why we train. That's why we practice and drill. We watch each other's back and take care of each other. You said it yourself. We're stronger as a family."

"Dad, we were a family that night in the cabin. All three of us were there, remember? I sure do. Sam and I were pinned to the fucking wall. You were possessed and ripping me into pieces. All three of us were helpless. **_I_** was helpless to protect you or Sammy."

Suddenly Sam understood what Dean was really saying. Dean wasn't afraid to face the demon again. He was afraid that once more he wouldn't be in a position to protect his family. Sam placed a firm hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Then we wait."

"Huh?"

"We wait. We do more research. We find multiple ways to kill the thing, and when we're ready, and only when we're ready, we go after it."

"What if we're never ready, Sam?" Dean asked. "Can you wait that long to get the thing that killed Jessica?"

Sam gave Dean one of those sad smiles that never failed to wreak havoc on Dean's emotions.

"As long as I have you reminding me that it is more important to focus on the living than the dead, I can wait for as long as it takes," Sam said simply.

Dean gave Sam a small smile. "Glad to hear it."

"Now, can we go home," Sam said. "My head is still really hurting."

"Let's go boys," John said. He took hold of Sam's arm and helped him to stand up. He noticed that Sam still looked pale and a sheen of sweat glistened over his face. These visions were really draining on his body.

Dean picked up the two library books and followed behind. He felt a little better knowing that neither his father or his little brother were going to rush off and do something stupid. Part of him really wished they would abandon the hunt for the demon. Even with more research and more plans part of him still didn't feel confident about going after the damn thing again. Some part of his brain knew that Dad was right. Somehow, Sam's destiny had been intertwined with this abomination from hell, and he had no idea how he was going to protect Sam or what the end result would be when the final confrontation took place.


	8. It's All Greek to Me

**Chapter 8: It's All Greek to Me**

**Author's Notes**: I've been doing a lot of research for this story. It almost fells like being back in college. :-) Anyway, I've been studying demonology and ancient Greek and Egyptian texts and in the end I decided to use some of what I found but also make some of it up too. So, if in this chapter or the next couple of chapters you see something that isn't a hundred percent accurate please don't kill me.

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Sam sat up in his bed. He looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was now four in the afternoon. He had been asleep for over three hours. Ever since Dad had dropped them back off at home before heading back to work. He slid his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, stretching his back and neck. He lifted the shade that Dean had lowered for him earlier and enjoyed the feel of the warm sunlight on his face.

There was a knock on the door and then Dean entered. "Hey, I thought I heard you moving around in here. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Sam said. "The Tylenol kicked in and the headache is gone."

"Good. Come and eat. You missed lunch."

"I'm not really hun…," Sam started to say but Dean cut him off.

"Sammy, Dad asked me to make sure you ate. You have to bulk up again. You lost too much weight while in that coma. Dad wants us fattened up and to start training again to get some strength back, _and_ before you ask me why I always follow Dad's orders, I have to tell you I agree with this one. We both need to bulk up and work out some, injured or not."

"Dean, stop trying to convince me. You win." Sometimes Dean's mother hen routine was almost funny. So what's for lunch?"

"You should actually be happy for once," Dean grinned.

In the kitchen Sam was happy. There was a whole roasted chicken, two big bowls of mashed potatoes with gravy, two bowls of macaroni and cheese, a bowl of corn, and a pile of cornbread biscuits.

"Wow, this looks awesome. Where did it come from?" Sam gasped.

"I used the forty bucks Dad gave us and walked to Boston Market, which is just down the street. I saw it this morning on the way to the library. There is also a large container of soup in the fridge, a meatloaf, and a container of red potatoes. I figured I'd buy enough food to last for several meals."

"This must have cost a fortune."

"It pretty much took up the entire $40. I think maybe I have about fifty cents left, but I was just following Dad's orders."

"You mean fattening me up? You make it sound like I'm going to be on a carving plate come Thanksgiving," Sam laughed.

"Whatever, just sit down and eat!"

The sight of the hot and delicious food suddenly made Sam's mouth water and he didn't need to be told twice. He sat down and began heaping food onto his plate. Dean carved up the chicken and set several large portions on Sam's dish before piling it on to his own.

"Pass the butter," Sam said with his mouth full. Dean did and Sam quickly slathered a generous amount onto his cornbread. "Oh man, this is incredible. It's definitely better than frozen pizzas, peanut butter and jelly, and hospital food."

"Mmm, you can say that again," Dean agreed. "We just have to make sure to leave plenty for Dad."

"I don't think that will be a problem. You bought a ton of food."

"I called Bobby while you were sleeping. I told him your theory about this thing predating Christianity. He thinks it might be Greek. He said they had a lot of Daimones back in their day and that if this thing is three thousand years old it would fit the timeline."

"That's a possibility," Sam said after swallowing a mouthful of food. "That would be during the fall of Greece as it was becoming a Roman state. For a while the Greeks and the Romans had similar gods and goddesses and even demons. Then when a little over a thousand years later it slowly starts to move towards monotheism the old ways and beliefs were ignored. This demon might have resented people no longer believing in him so he decided to make the journey across realms to be all powerful once more."

"Talk about ego," Dean quipped. "Bobby also said that the traditional Latin exorcisms should still work on it just fine, possibly even the holy water now that it's injured."

"So the reason the holy water didn't work the first time is because this demon was too powerful?" Sam questioned.

"That's what Bobby thinks. He contacted a priest he knows in Africa and then called me back. This African priest has apparently performed several exorcisms on some really old ass demons. He said one of them had also been invincible to the holy water at first too, but that once the demon had been weakened he was no stronger than any other."

"Whoa, how did this priest weaken the demon?" Sam exclaimed.

"I asked that too," Dean continued. "Apparently this priest has the Ring of Solomon."

"You're kidding! That ring is supposed to be a legend. That's how Solomon was able to control thousands of demons to do his bidding and build his Temple."

"You know what they say about every legend. There's always a grain of truth in there somewhere," Dean replied.

"I wonder if Bobby can get his friend to part with that ring for a while." Sam said.

"Not going to happen. The priest refuses to give it up. I also asked if the priest would fly to the states and that was also an affirmative no. Apparently he is also fighting his own battle with demons and just can't abandon his people."

"Well, at least we have the colt. If this thing is weaker then that will help too."

"One thing Bobby mentioned was trying to find the demon's name. One way to make a demon powerless is to say its name."

"Do you have any idea how many demons there have been since the beginning of time. We could be shouting out names at the thing for hours and never say the right one."

"I agree, but still, it might be something to look into," Dean pointed out. "It sounds like a job that would be perfect for sidekick, Geek Boy."

"Don't call me that," Sam complained. "And I'm not your sidekick. Did you call the guy from Chicago?"

"Sam, the person I called in Chicago was Caleb."

"So?"

"Sam, Caleb's dead. Meg killed him, remember?"

Sam's fork stopped halfway to his mouth. God, how could he have forgotten that?

"When you asked me to call him earlier I ignored it since I thought you were just a little out of it from the whole vision thing," Dean continued.

"I…I knew he was dead, I just, momentarily forgot. He's always been part of our lives, both him and Father Jim." Sam dropped his fork. Somehow it was just now hitting him that two members of their extended family had died.

"We never even took a moment to mourn them and they are both dead because of us, because this thing is after me," Sam sighed.

"Sam, there was nothing we could have done, and for the record they died because Dad had the colt, not because the demon was looking for you."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Sam, I want to talk about your visions."

"Why?" Sam asked. "What about them?"

"Sam, I think we should get you some help."

"What do you mean? Help for what?"

"Help for your visions. I was thinking that we should call Missouri. She might be able to teach you how to control them a little so they won't be so painful. I mean, you passed out today. What if we had been in the middle of a job? One or both of us would have ended up dead."

"Dean, I don't think so. I've had visions while on the job before, and technically it saved your life. I saw Max kill you, remember? I'll be okay."

"I think you just don't want to deal with it."

"I deal with it every day! I don't really have a choice. I just think I can handle it on my own. I don't need someone messing with my head."

"Sam your head is already a mess. Maybe Missouri could get things a little more organized in there."

"Dean, please, just drop it. I don't want to talk about this now."

"Fine, when will you want to talk about it? I'll bring it up then."

Sam was growing more and more frustrated. "I don't ever want to talk about it, okay. If I have a vision then I have a vision. If I have a nightmare then I have a nightmare. I'll deal with it and move on. After all, we're Winchesters. It's what we do."

"Maybe, but since you're the first psychic in the family maybe we can break the rules just this once and seek some outside help."eHe

"Missouri can't help me, Dean. I asked her back in Lawrence what was happening to me and she told me she didn't have any answers."

"You never told me that," Dean said.

"Yeah, well, at the time you were having your own issues," Sam replied.

"What do you mean?"

"You were trying to adjust to the fact that your brother was a freak, that mom was a ghost, and that whole poltergeist thing that took up residence in a house you swore you'd never step foot in again."

"Sam, you still could have told me. I've never failed to be there for you."

"No, you haven't, but sometimes I need to know that I'm not adding more weight to the burden you already carry on your shoulders."

Dean didn't know how to respond to that so he took a few more bites of his meal as did Sam.

"So how did Dad handle my having a vision today?" Sam asked. Dad had raced them home and he and Dean had helped Sam to his room. Sam had fallen asleep almost immediately.

"He only stayed for a few minutes after you fell asleep cause he had to get back to work. He seemed okay. I mean, he didn't like seeing you in pain like that, but he wasn't freaking out or preparing to douse you with holy water or anything."

"That's good," Sam chuckled. "So, is Bobby going to send us those books?"

"Yeah, he said he'd fed-ex them overnight mail. They should come in the mail tomorrow or the next day."

"That's good." Sam wiped his mouth with one of the paper napkins and finished off his can of soda. "Later I'll research Greek demons and see what I come up with."

"It'll have to wait until after we train," Dean reminded.

"No problem," Sam replied. "Actually, working out sounds pretty good right now."

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Later that evening John sat in the living room with Sam and Dean. Sam was on his laptop continuing with the research into the demon. It wasn't easy to type with his arm in his cast but he hunched over low to the computer and was managing to reach the keys. Dean was lying in the sofa reading one of the books Sam had checked out of the library.

John was busy cleaning and oiling the guns. Neither Sam nor Dean commented on the task. It wasn't unusual for him to do it. It was something both Dean and he did as a way of calming down for the night. There was something very rhythmic and peaceful in the routine of the act.

John looked up at the clock and saw that it was going on ten o'clock. "I think you boys should probably get ready for bed. I imagine you're tired after the library and then working out for the first time today. How did that go, by the way?"

"It went fine. We couldn't do all of the exercises we usually do, but we got through most of them," Dean replied.

"How long did you two spare?" John continued.

"For about thirty minutes," Dean answered.

"That's good. I want you boys to keep it up. I want you both back in shape as quickly as possible."

"Don't worry, Dad," Sam replied. He knew the bulk of his father's concern was over him. "We'll be back to normal in no time." When his father gave him a small smile Sam returned it.

"Well, like I said, off to bed with you two."

"Good night," they said and walked out of the living room.

John watched them take turns at the bathroom and then turn off the kitchen light. A few minutes seconds later he heard their door close. He finished methodically cleaning the weapons. He put the cleaning kit away and then sharpened his favorite knife on his stone until the blade was a sharp as a scalpel. Next, he loaded the clips of his two favorite guns. He slipped a bottle of holy water into his pocket along with the new Rosary he had purchased before coming home from work. He slid his knife into his sheath and buckled the leather strap over his chest. Finally, he picked up the colt and inserted the last bullet into the chamber. He pulled his jacket on and put the colt in the inside pocket.

Fully armed he stepped lightly into the kitchen and listened for any trace of noise that might be coming from the bedroom. All he heard was silence. Confident that the boys were asleep he turned to leave. He paused for a moment as he realized he needed to do something. He couldn't leave his sons clueless like he had last time. He stepped back to the kitchen table where Sammy had left a notepad with some of his research. He tore out a clean sheet of paper and picked up Sam's pen.

_Boys,_

_If luck is on my side I will be home before morning and the nightmare that has plagued our family will be gone. Sammy will finally be free. If I don't make it back home just know that I love you both. _

_Dean, words can never say how much you mean to me. You held this family together when I wasn't able to. Often I took you for granted and I'm sorry for that. You had to grow up so fast that you never really had a childhood, but you have the heart of a lion and I know that even if I don't make it back I will be able to count on you._

_Sam, the reason you and I fought so much is because we are too much alike. Even though there were times I cursed your pigheadedness, I also admired it. You were never a disappointment to me, a headache, yes, but a disappointment, no. You have grown into a man that I am proud of._

_If I don't make it back you two will be all that is left of our family. Don't ever turn your backs on each other. Protect and look out for each other and if I make it into heaven, and yeah that's a pretty big if, know I will be watching down on you two and will always be with you._

_Dad_

John placed the note on the table where they would be sure to see it in the morning. He knew what he was about to do was wrong but he didn't want to endanger his sons. They weren't ready for this yet, and Sam was right, he couldn't pass up this opportunity to get the drop on the evil son of a bitch. At least he wasn't abandoning his children without telling them anything this time. He only hoped he would be home before morning safe and sound.

He took one last long look at the closed door that separated him from his children. He longed to open the door and take a last glimpse at them just in case tonight was his last night on this earth, but he knew he couldn't. Dean and probably even Sam would wake immediately and want to know what was happening.

Finally he turned and walked stealthily out of the kitchen, through the living room and out the front door without making a sound. He made sure the front door was locked before heading down the porch steps to the truck in the drive way.

He took several steps towards his truck and then stopped dead in his tracks. "Shit." Even though he was cursing under his breath he couldn't stop the smile that spread over his face as he saw both Sam and Dean leaning against the truck waiting for him.

"Hey, Dad, going somewhere?" Dean asked with his classic grin plastered to his face.


	9. Plants, and Mirrors, and Incantations

**Chapter 9: Plants, and Mirrors, and Incantations, Oh My!**

**A/N: **I glad everyone foound the end of the last chapter amusing. I'm glad to say that I've finally figured out the direction of this story, which is a relief I might add. Hopefully updates will be coming more frequently now that I'm over the writer's block.

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"Boys, I want you both to go back in the house right now," John ordered.

"No way," Sam replied.

"I mean it." John placed his hands on his hips and stood to his full height. "Neither of you are ready to face this thing again. I'm not letting you come."

"Well, we're not letting you go," Dean replied.

"Excuse me? You're not letting me? Since when do I need permission from you two? I've been doing this job for twenty-two damn years and I know what I'm doing! Now go in the house and let me kill this damn demon."

"No," Sam said simply. "Dad, all you have is one bullet. What if you miss? I know you think you are protecting me and Dean, but what if it kills you tonight? Who's going to protect us then?"

"You boys should be able to protect each other by now," John stated.

"And we can, but that doesn't mean we don't still need you once in a while," Dean exclaimed.

"Dad, you said you wanted to spend some time with us, be a family again. I trusted you. I wanted to believe you," Sam said, his brows furrowed together in obvious disappointment.

"I do want that Sam, but I also know that I have an opportunity to take this thing out. Trust me; I'm not looking to get killed. However, I'll gladly die if it means you and Dean are safe and this thing can't come after you two any more."

"What if killing this thing starts a chain reaction that makes more demons come after us?" Sam asked.

"What?" John asked.

"Sam, did you have some kind of vision?" Dean asked.

"No, but I'm just saying, we got the colt to kill the demon, and what happened? Demons literally declared war on us. Caleb and Pastor Jim are dead because of it. We might kill this demon only to find out that we pissed off a lot of other things out there and we could end up in more danger than ever," Sam tried to explain.

"Sam, that's ridiculous."

"Is it?" Sam asked. "I thought we had agreed that we were going to wait before going after this thing! We were going to find a plan B. We were supposed to be doing this thing together. I don't remember you sneaking out in the middle of the night being part of the plan. Shit, you were just going to leave us once again!"

"No, it wasn't like last time. I left a note," John defended. "I wasn't abandoning you again."

Sam and Dean stood there looking at him with disappointment clear on both their faces. Damn it, why couldn't they see he was just doing his job as a father of keeping them safe.

Dean looked across the street and saw that the neighbors were looking out their windows at them.

"We should move this little powwow into the house. We're drawing an audience," Dean announced.

John huffed and marched into the house, stomping loudly up the stairs as he went. Back inside he removed his coat and tossed it on to the sofa. It was pretty clear he wasn't going out tonight.

Dean had a seat on the sofa while he watched his father pace the room like a caged animal. Sam had a different idea. He found himself wandering into the kitchen and grabbing the note Dad had left for them. He quickly grabbed it and shoved it into his pocket before either Dean or Dad could see what he was doing. Then he returned to the living room and waited for their father to explode. He didn't have to wait long.

"We need to make something clear. I AM THE HEAD OF THIS FAMILY! I know I agreed to these conditions that Sam put forth but at the end of the day I am in charge here and I am going to do what I decide is in the best interests of this family!"

"I never said you weren't the head of the family," Sam said calmly. He was fighting to keep his temper in check. He knew how upset Dean got when they fought and he wasn't going to let this blow up into another fiasco like when he went to school.

"Dad, all I asked was that you let Dean and I have an opinion, AND that you listen to it. You never even bothered to ask me what my research turned up today. You were just going to leave and hope for the best. That's not like you, Dad. You're usually more thorough than that."

"Fine, did you find out anything, Sam?" John asked sarcastically, expecting Sam to say no.

"Actually, I did."

John looked momentarily shocked. "You did?"

"Yeah, but I never had the chance to tell you because you sent me and Dean to bed like we were little kids."

Dean actually smiled. "That was a big giveaway as to what you were planning by the way."

John sat down and wiped at his face. "Part of me had a feeling you were on to me when you didn't even protest. So, anyway, Sammy, would you please share what you found out?"

"Well, I have a few leads on this demons name." Sam opened up his laptop and opened the file he had made. "Let's see, there is Alastor, a demon who inflicts vengeance upon the children for the sins of their father. Do you know if grandpa ever ran into this thing or maybe great-grandpa?"

"Not as far as I know," John replied.

"Okay, well then there is Dagan. He is a demon of the underworld and fertility."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure. It caught me attention because a) it's a demon, and b) it has an interest in children. Then there is Tiamat who reigns over primeval chaos."

"That sounds too generic," John said.

Sam didn't care if John was pointing out negatives. At least the man was listening to him.

"Okay, so no Tiamat. The last one here that has promise is Cacodaemones. He's a harmful spirit that plagues mankind. He was released from the box when Pandora opened it."

"Pandora?" Dean gasped. "You mean the bitch who let misery, pain, and pestilence spread all over the planet?"

"Yep, that'd be her," Sam replied.

"Well, you did a good job researching," John said, "but none of this is really going to help us fight this thing. We can't even be sure if knowing its name will really give us power over it."

"Still, it's something," Dean was quick to interject. "And for the record Sammy only had one day to research this."

"I may not have the name, but I did find some other things that can help protect us when we go after it. We need to make some mojo pouches to wear around our neck. We need southernwood and valerian. Those are plants with strong powers of protection and can repell evil. Valerian is even supposed to have healing qualities."

"Sammy, mojo?" John asked snidely.

"What? You're going to doubt this?" Sam asked. "Weren't you the one who burned sage and some other herbs when the vampires were after us? Missouri made pouches very similar to these when we went after the poltergeist."

"I guess," John replied. "So where do we get this stuff?"

"I found a retailer on line. I used Dean's credit card and had the guy send the ingredients UPS. They should be here in a couple of days. Also, I found out that demons are repulsed by their own reflections. I figure if we each wear a mirror of some kind as a necklace when we exorcise the demon from the biker guy the mirrors will prevent it from trying to possess one of us."

"That will be a useful little trick," Dean said. "This way we won't have to use the colt on one of us." He made a point of looking at his father as he spoke.

"There is one last thing," Sam said. "I found an ancient incantation to recite. It came from The Demotic Magical Papyrus of London and Leiden. Anyway, it basically translates to 'O darkness be gone from before me. O light come and enter' etc, etc. I'm supposed to recite the incantation seven times to banish the evil away."

"Banish?" John asked. "No, I don't want to just banish it back to hell. I want to kill it!"

"I know, Dad, but we only have one bullet. The demon is going to go straight after whoever has the gun. I figure even if I'm glued to a wall I can say the incantation and maybe draw its attention away from the person with the colt and get it to focus on me. Then you or Dean can shoot it."

John was quiet for several moments and Sam and Dean sat nervously while John seemed to be considering everything that Sam had shared. Finally John stood up and walked over to Sam. He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and gave a little squeeze.

"You did good, Sammy. You did real good."

Sam smiled at his father. The old man would never know how much the few words of praise would mean to Sam. "Thanks."

"Well, we can't go after the demon for at least the next two weeks. That's when your casts will be off and Sam's plants will arrive. I guess we might as well go to bed, and I mean for real this time. Since I know I'm going to be alive to see tomorrow I need to get some sleep for work. Good night boys."

"Good night, Dad," they replied.

John went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

"Do you think he will sneak out again?" Sam asked.

"No, I think you managed to convince him you're right," Dean answered.

"I'm sorry for upsetting him and possibly upsetting you."

"Don't be. Sam, I don't like to see you and Dad fight, but you were right tonight. Even Dad had to admit it. I want to learn this incantation of yours, though."

"Why? Usually I just take care of the things in foreign languages. My Latin is better than yours, and I can probably pull off ancient Egyptian better too."

"Yeah, but if this demon throws you against a wall and knocks you out it will come in handy if I can say it too."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Let me type it up for you and then I'll write it out for you phonetically so you can pronounce the words."

"Great," Dean said. "It can wait till tomorrow, though. I don't know about you but I'm ready for bed too."

"Sounds good," Sam agreed. He followed his brother back to his room and closed the door behind them. Sam turned on the lamp that sat on the small table between their beds. He fished the note out of his pocket and opened it up to read it.

As he read the words on the piece of paper he felt his eyes get watery but he didn't cry. It wasn't sadness that he felt from the note but love. This piece of paper was written proof of his father's love for him and his brother and he was glad that he had snatched it before their Dad could have gotten it and crumpled it up.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Dad's note to us," Sam told him. He watched as Dean's eyes opened wide. Sam passed the letter over to Dean so he could read it too. Sam watched as the emotions played across Dean's face the same way they had certainly gone across his own. When Dean finished the letter he folded it in half and then set it on the table by the lamp.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean said. "You?"

"I'm good."

"Good."

"Dean, we're going to be okay…when we fight this thing I mean. Between the magical plants, mirrors, spells, guns, holy water…I think we're going to be okay."

"I know we will," Dean agreed confidently. "Nothing is going to happen to any of us. That thing may have caught us with our pants down once, but never again. Nothing gets the drop on us twice! Nothing."

Sam smiled at Dean's bravado, yet when Dean was as adamant as he was right now you had to believe him.

Dean flicked out the light and lay back in his bed. He knew his family was going to be all right. He just wanted to make sure he learned how to say the incantation Sam had found. If anyone was going to deliberately draw the demon's attention to them it would be him. He didn't care what his father said about Sam having a destiny. Sammy was not going to dangle himself like a worm on hook just so Dad or he could shoot the thing.


	10. A Night Off

**Chapter 10: A Night Off**

John drove home from work listening to the country music station. He knew as soon as Dean climbed into the truck he would say something rude about his taste in music and then whine because John wouldn't let him put on the hard rock station. One thing that had crushed Dean about the accident was the loss of his beloved cassette tapes. That had almost been as upsetting to him as the loss of the car itself.

John wondered what Sammy had planned for tonight. Today was Wednesday, family night. He hoped Sam didn't plan something stupid for them to do. Sam was probably going to drag them to a museum or a poetry reading or only god knew only what. At least his boys were too old to ask him to take them to Chucky Cheese or something like that.

He pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. He grabbed his empty lunchbox and went into the house. Sam was sewing something he couldn't figure out and Dean was studying the newspaper.

"Sammy, what's that?"

"I'm making the pouches to hold the southernwood and valerian when it arrives," he answered.

"That's right. Dean what are you doing?"

"I think I found a job for us this weekend."

"What kind of job?" John asked.

"It's in Springwood, that's a town about two hours from here. There have been six children to disappear in the past two years. All the kids lived within a few blocks of each other and all of them were between the ages of three and five."

"What makes you think it is our kind of thing," Sam asked.

"The last time anyone had seen these kids they had been playing by a small stream that cuts through the neighborhood where an old covered bridge is," Dean explained.

"That sounds like a troll," Sam said.

"Sure does," John agreed. "Friday I'll drive out there and check it out."

"We're coming too," Dean said.

"I can handle it," John said.

"Dad, you gotta let me come. I need to get out of this house and do something besides help Sammy with research. He's the bookworm, not me."

"Actually, I never thought I would say this but going after a child eating troll this weekend sounds like a good idea to me too. Dean's not the only one bored out of his mind."

"Boys, I just think you might be more of a hindrance than a help," John said.

"Dad, Sam and have both hunted in the past with casts and injuries far worse than what we are now," Dean pointed out. "Hell, I once went on a hunt with a fever of a 104 degrees. I was practically delirious."

"I remember the hunt I went on with you two when I had appendicitis. I could barely move and I still helped you hunt that Bigfoot."

"If I remember both of those hunts ended up being near disasters when you two literally fell down on the job," John pointed out.

"Yeah, but we still killed the bad guy in the end," Dean grinned.

"Fine, if you two want to come wallow in the mud and muck under a bridge this weekend that's fine with me. Just know I'm not jumping in to save your ass when you fall in the river."

Sam and Dean just ginned at each other. "Sure Dad." Both boys knew their Dad would jump in after them in a heart beat if they were truly in danger. John knew it too.

"So what are we doing tonight for this family night?" John asked. He became very worried when he saw the evil looking smile Sam and Dean shared between them before turning innocent faces to him.

0000000000000000

"Tell me this is a joke," John begged.

"Nope," Dean chuckled.

"Guys, don't you think we are a little bit old to be doing this?"

"Come on, Dad. Where's your sense of adventure," Dean asked, struggling not to laugh.

"Dad, I thought you would like this. You get to shoot things," Sam said, choking back a laugh.

"Keep laughing and I'm going to shoot you two!"

"Dad, you agreed to Sammy's terms. You said Wednesday would be family night." Dean had been totally blown away when Dad had agreed to this, but he was now in the spirit of it and ready to have a little fun at his father's expense.

"I was thinking maybe we'd see a movie or play poker. Laser tag! You two actually want to do laser tag? How are you even going to play?"

"Dean's cast doesn't slow him down at all anymore," Sam pointed out, "and luckily for me my gun hand isn't the one in a cast. Don't worry about us, we'll be fine."

"How much is this little adventure going to cost me?" John asked. "I don't have that much money and pay day is still two days away?"

"It's only five dollars a person and you get twenty minutes inside," Dean said.

Finally John relented. "Fine, let's just get this over with." 'Who knows, it might actually be fun,' John thought. He might just show his boys a thing or two about picking on their old man.

They went inside and John paid for their round. They had to wait about ten minutes for the current game to come to an end.

"What's your name?" the girl at the register asked.

"Sam." He watched her type it in.

"Okay, when you come out you can look at the monitor over there and it will tell you your number of hits and kills."

"Cool," Dean said. "My name is Dean, what's yours?"

"Kara."

"Well, Kara, do you think I can get your phone number."

"I'm married with two kids."

"So I'm guessing that's a no," Dean replied.

Sam smacked Dean upside of his head once he stepped away from the counter.

"Dude, what's your problem?"

"Do you always have to think with your downstairs brain?"

"What? Nothing ventured, nothing gained!" Dean said with his full swagger.

John just rolled his eyes at his sons' antics and gave the girl his name.

Ten minutes later the three of them, along with about a dozen other people, were led into a room where they put on their gear. There was a chest cover that had several sensors on it to record when they were hit as well as a head band with a sensor on the forehead and the back of the head.

Honestly, John felt like an idiot putting all that junk on, but he had to admit that it felt good when he picked up his 'assault weapon' and flicked on the switch.

A man in his thirties stepped into the room to give the directions. John guessed he was probably the owner.

"Okay, when you go inside the maze it is very dark. The maze it lit with black light so you will see your laser beams very clearly. All sensors also glow a soft red color so you will see your targets. If at any time you need help simple call out game over and someone will escort you out of the room. Any questions?"

When no questions were forthcoming he told them to have fun and then opened the door to the maze. Instantly the lights in the changing room turned off and everyone filed into the maze and headed off in different directions.

John lost sight of Sam and Dean almost instantly but that was okay. He knew they were here and he felt it was time to remind them just who their father was. In the next two minutes he managed to hit six different people without getting hit once. It wasn't easy because there were holes in the maze walls and also reflective mirrors that could bounce the beam and allow someone to shoot you in the back.

He ducked down when he saw a beam coming at him and managed to avoid it. He then popped up and shot the other person. Their vest then vibrated and the lights blinked. He saw the person he had just shot was Dean. John smiled and then ducked down and took off running, but not before Dean saw who had nailed him.

"Shit," Dean grumbled and then hurried off in his own direction.

Sam was having a blast as he ducked this way and that. He had tagged several people with the laser already and had only been hit twice, both times in the back. Now he was making a better effort at keeping his back to the wall. He bounced his laser off a mirror and hit two more guys. He turned a corner and came face to face with his father. He momentarily froze and by the time he got over his initial shock his Dad had already tagged him and had taken off running.

Sam took off after his Dad but lost sight of him. He bumped into Dean and the two shot each other simultaneously. Both of their vests started vibrating.

"You see Dad?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, he's gone commando," Dean replied.

Suddenly Sam's and then Dean's vests started vibrating again. They looked back and saw their father and even in the dimness of the black light they could see him grinning at them. He was gone before they even had their guns lifted.

"Dean, have you ever noticed how scary Dad can be sometimes?"

"Oh yeah," Dean replied.

"You realize he'll never let us live this down if he kicks our asses."

"Tell me about it." Dean slapped Sam on the arm and the two split up.

Over the next fifteen minutes the Winchesters stalked the other players as well as each other. When the game finally came to an end the lights turned on and their vests automatically shut off. Everyone in the maze followed the now visible exit signs and went back to the gear room where they stripped off the vests and headbands.

John was surprised that he had actually broken out in a sweat from all the activity. Truth was he'd had a blast!

"I need something to drink," Sam said. He was also covered in sweat, as was Dean.

Back in the main entrance they looked at the monitor and saw that John had come if first place with the most kills and the fewest hits. Dean had come in second and Sam third. Dean teased Sam on the fact that he had been hit a dozen times.

"Dude if that had been a real hunt you would be nothing but Swiss cheese right now!"

"Yeah, well you wouldn't be much better. You were hit nine times."

"You'd both be dead," John said. "You boys did a lousy job in there."

"Dad, we came in second and third," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah, but you'd still be dead."

"What about you?" Sam asked. "You were hit four times. You might be tough but I think four bullets would bring even you down."

"I'd still have better odds of surviving than you two. Now let's go get some food. I'm starving."

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Sam sat next to Dean and across from his father in the booth. He looked over his menu. He was happy to see that the prices weren't too expensive here. He didn't want to use up more money than necessary. He had been surprised when Dad had suggested this place. Usually when the three of them went out it was to some cheap diner or to the bar where the evening meal would consist of cheese sticks and jalapeño poppers.

"Dad, what did we come here for?" Dean grumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's a Chinese restaurant."

"Dean, people usually go to a restaurant when they want to eat," John said.

"Yeah, but we usually go to the bar. I mean, there're no pool tables, no dart boards, no beer, and no women. This place is full of senior citizens."

Sam bit his lip to keep from laughing. Poor Dean, his brother really wasn't having a good time.

John just gave Dean a forced smile. "It's supposed to be family night, not Dean's getting laid night. Besides, I don't drink anymore, remember?"

Dean, thoroughly chastised, stuck his head in his menu and looked for something to order. He had forgotten that Dad had stopped drinking. The man had never been a full blown alcoholic but he could certainly put away the liquor when the mood hit him, and a drunken John Winchester was a mean John Winchester.

When the waitress came they placed their orders. John chose the hot and spicy chicken, Dean got sweet and sour shrimp, and Sam ordered almond chicken. All chose the wanton soup with some Cokes to come before the meal.

"So tell the truth, Dad. You had fun at laser tag," Dean spoke up.

John smiled. "It was better than I thought it would be. I don't know if I would want to do it again, but it was fun for a one time thing."

"It was Sam's idea."

"No it wasn't," Sam protested. "You're the one who suggested it."

"Yeah, but I was just joking. You're the one who said we should make Dad do it."

"Did not."

"Boys!" John called. "It doesn't matter. We had fun."

"Wow," Sam said. "I don't know if I've ever heard you say that before."

John was about to tell Sam he was being silly but when he stopped to think about it he honestly couldn't say if he had ever said those words in front of Sammy. He suddenly felt really bad as he realized that while he had prepared his boys to face their future he had also stolen their childhoods from them. Would it have really been so bad to have let Sammy play soccer once in a while, or let Dean play a little baseball?

"Dad, you okay?" Sam asked.

John shook off the feelings of guilt and forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I was just thinking about the past."

The three spent the rest of the evening having their dinner and John even told several stories of his time in the Marines and some of the jokes they played on his sergeant. When dinner was finally done they drove back home and went inside.

"Boys, make sure you get exact locations found for this troll this weekend, and…"

"Uh huh, Dad. No talk of hunting on Wednesdays," Sam spoke up. "It can keep till tomorrow."

John sighed but there was no anger in his voice when he spoke. "Fine, we'll talk about it tomorrow."

Sam graced him with an appreciative smile and then turned to head towards his room.

"Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"I…" John paused for a moment and both Sam and Dean were waiting for him to finish his sentence. "I'm glad you suggested this."

"What?" Sam asked, not entirely sure what Dad was talking about.

"This, Wednesdays, family night, I'm glad we did this."

Sam smiled again and this time it almost reached ear to ear. "Me too."

Not one to be ignored Dean added a, "Me three," to the mix.

"So does that me we're on again for next Wednesday?" Sam asked.

"I wouldn't miss it," John replied.

**A/N:** I hope you like this chapter. It was actually hard to write. I mean, how do you make John Winchester have FUN? Is that even possible? I hope I didn't go too over the top with this. I figured laser tag would be a good route to go since John would at least get to 'shoot' things. Tell me what you think. Also, coming next chapter our gorgeous, hot, buff, (is it getting hot in here?) hunky heroes go TROLLING for trouble. What will happen to poor Sam? Will Dean save him in time? Will John be a third wheel once more? Dum da da dum…dum……


	11. A Trolling We Will Go

**Chapter 11: A Trolling We Will Go!**

**A/N:** I'm glad everyone was satisfied with the last chapter. Now that the fun is over though, it's time to get back to a little family angst and trauma. ;-)

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Dean packed up the last of the weapons into his duffle bag and zipped it up. He looked up as Sam came out of their room with his bag hanging on his good arm.

"It feels weird to not be packing up everything we own before taking off," Sam said.

"Yeah, it feels even weirder to know that when this hunt is done we're coming back here," Dean added.

"It's kind of nice, though, don't you think, I mean, having a home?" There was almost a hint of begging in Sam's voice as he asked his brother the question.

Dean knew where Sam was going with this. He knew Sam still held to his belief that one day they would all settle down and live a nice suburban life.

"I guess it's good for now. It beats sleeping in the car while we both still have broken bones, but once the casts come off it'll be good to get going again."

"But Dad took a six month lease," Sam said, "and we still don't have money to get you a car."

"Sam, don't do this right now. I know you want to turn me into some fat, suburban, lawn mowing, freak of a husband but I just don't ever see it happening. I'm not going to marry Cassie! I'm not going to have kids! You and I will never be living in houses that are right next door to each other!" Dean didn't mean to sound so angry but his voice continued to rise with each sentence he uttered until he was almost shouting.

"Sam, I accept the fact that when the day comes you are going to go and I will let you because that is what you want, and I want you to be happy, but you are also going to have to accept the fact that I'm _not_ cut out to be normal. This is my life, Sam. Hunting is my life, and for as much as you want to turn your back on it, it's your life too. If you go back to school and have a vision of someone dying, being hurt by something you could stop, are you going to ignore it? Are you going to stand back and just let that person die? _Are you_?"

"No," Sam whispered.

"Exactly! So even when the big bad demon is dead and you are free of your obligation to avenge Jessica, you are still going to be the person that you are right now! You're still going to be psychic boy. You're still going to be a hunter."

"Dean, I've accepted that I'm _not _ever going to be normal, but can't we compromise? Can't we find a way to have both? Like now? We have a home, Dad has a job, and in few days we'll be able to get jobs, but we'll still hunt on the weekends."

"It's a nice idea except what do we do when the hunt is to far away to get it done in a weekend?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted.

"Sammy, you have a life, and maybe it isn't the one you wanted, but it's the one you got, and you're going to have to learn to make the best of it. Not everything we do is bad. We save people's lives. We rescue children from monsters. We get to travel and see places."

"Yeah, we should write a guide book on the crappiest motels of America."

Dean chuckled. "Okay, so maybe the accommodations aren't always the best, but we still have each other, and now Dad. At least you aren't alone. You have a family that loves you and is willing to do almost anything for you. Who knows, maybe we can convince Sarah to move out of her stuffy mansion and go one the road with us?"

"I haven't spoken to Sarah in over six weeks."

"So you're keeping count?" Dean asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"Sarah was great. She was smart, beautiful, brave, but let's face it, I'm never going to see her again. I have nothing to offer her."

"That's not true," Dean said.

"Really, tell me oh wise one, what do I have that she could possibly want?"

"You," Dean said. "You have you, and the last I saw that seemed to be enough for her."

Sam looked down at his shoes and thought for a moment. "The only thing I can offer her is fear and pain. She would constantly be worried for every hunt I went on of whether I would come home alive. Then, if I died, or worse, if something I hunted came after her, there would be the pain. I do care about Sarah…a lot…and because of that I'm going to do her the biggest favor I can. I'm going to leave her alone."

"Sammy, has anyone ever told you what a ray of sunshine you are? Really, you should get a job writing greeting cards for Hallmark."

Sam tossed his over night bag at Dean. "Jerk."

Dean easily caught the projectile and smiled. "Bitch."

Before either could comment anymore they heard the loud engine of their father's truck pull in the driveway and then the honk of the horn. They grabbed their bags and headed out.

John had packed his bags the night before and had loaded the truck with his things before going to work that morning.

Sam locked the door behind them and they tossed their stuff in back before climbing in with their Dad. Sam ended up in the middle as Dean sat next to the passenger door.

"You boys get everything?"

"Yes, sir," Dean replied.

"Then let's go. Sammy, which way?"

"Take 15 north until you get to 696. Then go west on 696 to Springwood."

"Okay." John put the truck in drive and headed out.

"Did you find out any more details about this thing?"

"Not really," Sam replied. "Just the six disappearances listed in the news and that they all happened by this bridge. I checked the local newspaper going back and I wasn't able to find any other strange deaths or murders. There's nothing to suggest this is a spirit so far. Again, they all disappeared by the old bridge. The bridge has been there for about sixty years, but, here's the catch, the neighborhood has only been there for about two and half years."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"It's a brand new subdivision," Sam stated. "Three years ago all that land was forest. If a troll had been living under the bridge he would have just been hunting animals and not bothering people. The new housing destroyed his habitat."

"So, instead of eating Bambi and Thumper," Dean supplied, "he's now eating preschool children who wander off too far from their parents."

"That's pretty much what I was thinking," Sam agreed.

"Well, this troll, if it is a troll, has to be destroyed," John said.

"Totally," Dean agreed. He reached out to change the country music station but had his hand smacked by his father.

"Driver chooses the music," John warned.

Sam looked at Dean and gave him an evil grin. "Shotgun shuts his cakehole."

Dean's response was to elbow Sam in the side.

"Ow," Sam complained.

"Dean, I expect you to act your age," John warned.

Dean just sighed and slumped down in his chair. It was going to be a long two hour drive!

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John drove them through the McDonalds drive-thru and ordered a bunch of burgers and items from the dollar menu. He handed the hot bag over to Sam and then drove them across the street to the small motel there.

"Stay here," he said as he got out of the truck and went to get their room.

Dean grabbed the bag from Sam and dug around for some fries.

"I hate country music," Dean grumbled.

"Now you know how I feel," Sam replied.

"Hey, my music is better than that shit!"

"Only marginally," Sam told him before grabbing the bag back and fishing out a few fries for himself.

John climbed back in the truck and tossed Dean the room key. He started the engine and drove around back and park by their door, number 16. From the looks of it they were the only ones on this side.

Everyone climbed out and grabbed their stuff. Dean unlocked the door and led them into a motel room that was remarkably like many motels they had stayed in before.

Dean set his things on the bed closest to the door like he always did.

"No, that bed's mine," John said. "You and Sam take that one."

It suddenly dawned on the boys that they would be sharing a bed. Both felt a little weird about that. It wasn't like they hadn't shared a bed before. There had been several occasions when the motel only had a single room left and they were forced to make due, but somehow with their father there it seemed different. It made them feel like children again. Dean also felt a little off because he always had the bed next to the door and now Dad was claiming his territory.

Dean picked up his bag and set it on the bed. Sam put his next to Dean's.

"This is my side," Dean claimed. "You sleep on that side."

John tore into a burger and watched as Dean put Sammy closest to the wall and farthest from the door. Sam didn't complain, though. By now Sam was used to Dean's over protectiveness and had given up grumbling about it a long time ago.

"Okay, so I think we should take a drive out to this bridge," Dean said and clapped his hands together in anticipation of a little action.

"Shouldn't we wait till morning," Sam suggested. "Trolls are nocturnal. Tomorrow we can scope out the area, find its nest, and then go back at dusk and kill the thing."

"Sam, you worry too much," Dean said. "It's just a troll. There's a reason why they go after small kids instead of adults."

"Actually a troll will eat anything they can get their hands on," John pointed out. "Don't think that just because you're not a child it won't try to eat you. They're also not completely stupid. They're good hunters. Trolls can live to be hundreds of years old and go most of their life undetected."

"Okay, but we can still go and check it out tonight," Dean said. "Troll's are solitary critters. So it's just one troll and three of us."

John looked at the clock. It was only 7:18. Now that it was mid-spring the sun was out longer. "We still have another hour of daylight," he finally said. "Let's go check it out, but we're not going to try and attack it tonight until we have a little more info on what's out there. Remember, it might not be a troll. We've just been assuming all this time."

Sam and Dean both pulled out their handguns and tucked them into their belts. Dean pulled out his machete as did John. Shotguns were loaded with real shells instead of rock salt. It took several bullets to bring down a troll since their skin was pretty thick, and then you needed to get the chest cavity to really kill it, but decapitation was fast and effective.

The drive to the bridge only took about fifteen minutes down some back roads. Everyone was happy to see that there weren't any houses actually on the river or near the bridge itself so they wouldn't have to worry about trespassing and upsetting any of the residents.

The houses were actually set back about two hundred feet from the area but it was easy to see from the trashcans and occasional piece of litter that the place was used a lot by the neighbors for picnicking and playing.

John parked just before the covered bridge's entrance. Sam climbed out of the truck and looked inside the dark cavern created by bridge. He knew most people were fond of covered bridges but he always just found them to be ominous looking. The dark shadows they created allowed for too many things to hide and wait. He heard his dad and Dean talking and planning but he start walked into the bridge and tried to see if anything was in there. His foot steps sounded hollow on the wooden planks beneath his feet. He flinched when one of the boards made a loud creak. He startled again when he heard something scrambling underneath the bridge. Something was literally hanging onto the floorboards just underneath his feet.

"There's something here!" Sam called. He looked up and saw both Dean and Dad running towards him carrying their shotguns and machetes.

"What did you see?" John asked as he reached Sam. His eyes were quickly scanning the inside of the bridge.

"I heard it under the bridge," Sam said softly. "It's hanging on underneath."

"You boys go under from the left side, I'll approach from the right," John said.

Without another word spoken the three took positions, John on the right with his gun raised, Dean on the left with Sam watching his back. Carefully they tramped down the deep embankment. Sometimes they had to put their arm out and touch the ground to keep their footing. It was about a ten foot drop to the damp ground below.

The stream really wasn't a stream but a small river. Sam guessed it was probably about forty feet across. The water seemed to be barely flowing and there wasn't a ripple in sight. The water mirrored a perfect reflection of the long shadows the trees cast and of the orange and pink evening sky.

Once they reached the opening under the bridge they were even more alert than before. They all kept their eyes trained on the floor of the bridge which was now over their heads. Every beam and rafter was a potential hiding place. In the next second three flashlight beams clicked on and they made diligent work of searching every possible nook and cranny big enough to hold a river troll.

After ten minutes of searching the underside of the bridge, the ground below it, and the support beams that held the bridge aloft they realized the troll was gone.

"It must have gone to the other side of the river," Dean said.

"It would have been easy enough for it to simply scale across the bridge or even swim across," Sam agreed.

"Sammy, are you sure you heard it?" John asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I heard its claws as it dug into the boards to hang on." Sam raised his flashlight again and began searched once more. He walked around and then stopped when he found what he was looking for.

"There," Sam pointed. "You can see the claw marks in the wood and over there too. It's definitely a troll."

"Well, at least we know what we're dealing with," John said. "There's only about ten minutes of light left. Let's take a minute to search the area and see if we can find anything before we leave for the night."

The three broke up. John started walking east along the bank of the river and Dean went west. Each shone their flashlights along the ground to see if they could find the trolls burrow. Sam stayed under the bridge and continued to search for clues. He walked closer to the water's edge. He sighed when the ground became muddier and his foot sunk in all the way to his ankle.

"Shit," he grumbled and pulled his foot out of its muddy hole. He shook his foot trying to sling some of the mud off. It happened by accident that he saw his flashlight reflect off something. He didn't even know what it had been, just that for a split second the light bounced off something that wasn't black mud.

"Hey," he called out to his family. He took several tentative steps and gave up trying to keep clean when he realized he was going to have to traipse through the mud to find out what his light had hit.

Dean had just turn and started heading back to the bridge. He watched as Sam's beam of light wandered closer to the water. He sped up a bit when he heard Sam's soft call of 'Hey.'

Sam looked back and saw that Dean was coming. He looked to his father but apparently Dad hadn't heard him since he was still walking away from them.

"What did you find?" Dean asked when he got close enough to not have to shout.

"I'm not sure," Sam replied. "You should stay back though. It's really muddy here and you'll ruin your cast."

Dean scanned the ground and saw Sam was right. "Just be careful," Dean ordered. He raised his gun to cover Sam's back should something jump out.

Sam plopped through the muck and mire and finally he saw something again with his light. It was right next to the water's edge. He approached slowly and gasped softly when he saw what looked to be a chunk of blond hair lying on the ground. He bent down to pick it up. His fingers brushed the yellow hair and he let out a sigh of relief when he realized it was just a doll's head. He was about to stand up when he heard a soft splash in the water. He froze and looked out to the river.

Suddenly a noose was jerked up from under a thin layer of mud where it had been buried and caught Sam's foot in it. The rope was then jerked and Sam flew backwards landing on his back with a soft thump.

"Sam!" Dean called. No sooner had Dean taken the first step towards his brother he watched as Sam was pulled fast as lightning across the slick mud and then into the river.

"SAM!" Dean screamed and took off after Sam. He slipped several times on the mud but managed to stay upright. He looked out into the water and there, about twenty feet out he could see Sam thrashing in the water. Without a second thought to his own safety he charged out into the water. He was quite surprised when one second the water was only at his thighs and then the next second it was over his head as he reached a major drop off. Dean struggled to the surface only to realize too late that the cast on his leg was too heavy and he was unable to swim.


	12. A Heroic Rescue

**Chapter 12: A Heroic Rescue**

**A/N: **I'm so glad everyone liked the last chapter. I tried to make this one as exciting and as traumatizing as possible for all three of our guys. The next few days are pretty busy for me so it may be a couple of days before the next chapter gets posted but I promise to work on it every free second I get.

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"_Sam!"_

John turned back when he heard Dean call out to Sam. He started walking quickly as he saw Dean's flashlight beam moving quickly.

"_SAM!"_

There was no mistaking the pure terror in Dean's voice. John took off running as fast as he could back to the bridge. He saw Dean start into the water but he didn't see Sammy anywhere. He realized that Dean was going into the water.

"DEAN!" he called but it didn't even look like Dean had heard him. Didn't his son realize he couldn't swim! Then just as John reached the edge of the river his worst fear happened. Dean went under!

John dropped his shotgun and machete and dove into the water and swam out. He could see Dean's fingers popping up clawing at the surface but Dean couldn't get his head above the water. John swam faster and soon he had his arms wrapped around Dean and was paddling his boy back to safety.

"Sam!" Dean screamed as soon as his head rose above the surface. "Dad, you have to get Sam!"

It was then that John saw his youngest out in the middle of the river fighting his own battle to stay above the water's surface.

"Dad, go help Sammy!" Dean begged.

"Let me get you to shore first. You can't swim!"

"I'll be okay! Go after Sam!" Dean's eyes were fixed upon his frantically struggling brother. He watched in horror as Sam was suddenly pulled under the water. "NO!"

John also saw his son go under but he needed to get Dean to shallower water before he headed back out. He kept his eyes fixed on the exact location where his baby had gone under.

Suddenly Sam's head popped up once more and both Dad and Dean felt a moment of hope but it was shattered when they heard Sam yell, "Dean!" before suddenly being pulled under once more.

John felt his feet hit solid ground. "Dean, get back up the shore, NOW!" He let go of his oldest and then once more rushed back out into the river. He pumped his arms and kicked his legs as fast as he could to cover the distance between him and his son.

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Sam was caught completely off guard when the lasso tightened around his leg and pulled him off his feet. He fell back into the mud which softened his landing. He heard Dean call his name but before he could even reply the rope hurtled him across the ground and then for a moment it was as if he was body surfing across the water. Just as fast as it had started the momentum stopped and Sam plunged beneath the surface.

It took a second to get his bearings but then he kicked off and broke through and gulped a breath of air. He felt something grabbing at his legs and pulling at his jeans. He knew it was the troll. He kicked at it as hard as he could. It was difficult since he was not only swimming with one arm but his other arm was heavy and working against him.

Still, Sam didn't give up. He continued to kick at the monster that was trying to kill him. He cried out when he felt the thing sink its teeth into his side. He grabbed the thing by its neck and pulled it away from him. He managed to free his body of its teeth but he slipped back under the water. He had to let go to get another breath of air.

At the top he could hear Dean shouting something but he couldn't make it out.

"DEAN!" Sam cried.

The creature must have realized its opponent was too strong so it changed its tactic. It gave up trying a direct attack and chose to go for the rope still attached to Sam's ankle.

Sam felt the tugging of the rope and knew what was going to happen. The next instant he was pulled under the water once more. He clawed at the surface but it was no use. He decided to swim down and try to fight the troll once more, or at the very least free his ankle of the rope. He couldn't find the creature, the long rope allowed it to go down deep out of his reach. He tugged at the knot around his foot but with only one hand he couldn't loosen it, plus the troll kept tugging at it throwing him off balance.

His body began to scream for air. His lungs burned and panic moved in as he realized he was going to die. He thrashed wildly and then against his will his mouth opened to pull in a breath of air that wasn't there. Water filled his mouth and lungs. Sam's last thought was of Dean and how sorry he was that his dying was going to cause Dean pain. His movements began to slow until finally his body went completely limp.

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John kept hoping that Sammy would pop up once more but it didn't happen. John was very much aware of the fact that Sam had now been under the water too long.

Finally he reached what he guessed was the spot where Sam had gone under for the last time. He took a deep breath and dove down. The water was almost pitch black and John could only feel around hoping to touch Sam since he couldn't possibly hope to see his son.

John felt a miracle happened when he bumped into something and felt around and realized it was Sam's arm. He tugged hard hoping to pull Sam to the surface but he couldn't raise Sam up. Something was latched onto his boy. He rose up to the top, grabbed a quick breath, and then went back down. He used Sam's body to pull himself down and sure enough a rope was attached to Sam's ankle. John guessed the troll was deeper down and holding on to the rope. He didn't have time to think about that though. Sam was dying. He needed to get his son to safety. John pulled out his knife and quickly sliced through the rope. He pulled Sam to his chest and lifted him above the water.

John took a deep breath and looked at Sam. He didn't even have to check to know that Sam wasn't breathing. He willed himself to be calm and focused on swimming back to the shore so they could perform CPR. If he panicked now Sam would die for sure.

John had taken a few strokes towards shore when the twisted and gnarled face of the troll shot up out of the water. The troll made a grab for Sam but John still had his knife in his hand. He stabbed the troll in its leathery neck. The creature howled with pain and abruptly dove beneath the water. Its fear of this new threat was stronger than its desire for its lost meal.

Dean saw the troll attack his father and it was killing him to be stuck watching helplessly as the lives of both his family members were at risk. He heard the troll cry out and saw it give up on its meal. Dean willed his father to swim faster and he literally bounced from foot to foot waiting for them to get close enough so he could help.

John continued to pull his lifeless son back to the shore. After a minute his feet hit solid ground again and he stood and pulled Sam with him. He didn't even protest when Dean rushed into the water once more and helped him carry Sammy to drier ground. They laid Sam down on the mud.

"Dean, start mouth to mouth," John ordered.

Dean tilted Sam's neck back, pinched his nose, and blew two deep breaths into his brother's lungs. He raised up then and watched as John began chest compressions.

"Sammy, breathe," Dean begged. "Don't you die."

John counted to thirty and then Dean leaned in to give two more breaths. He watched Sam's chest rise and fall and willed it to do it on its own.

John continued compressions and Dean was feeling the panic surge up inside of him as time passed and Sam didn't come around.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted and then gave two more breaths. Again Sam remained lifeless.

"Damn it, Sammy!" their father yelled. John reached over and slapped Sam hard across the face. "Sammy, don't you dare give up!"

Dean blew life giving oxygen once more into his brother's mouth and was rewarded with a mouthful of water as Sam finally coughed up the river water that filled his lungs.

"Oh thank god," Dean cried as he and John rolled Sam on his side so he could vomit up the rest of the water. Then Dean grabbed his brother and pulled him up so Sam was lying on Dean's chest. He wrapped his arms around him and held Sam tight.

Sam's head lulled backwards and he coughed a few more times. "Dean…Dad?"

"We're here, Sammy," Dean whispered into his ear. "It's okay now. You're okay." He reached up and brushed Sam's hair out of his eyes.

The three sat in silence, all breathing heavy, all coming to grips with the close call they'd just had. After a minute it was Sam who finally broke the silence.

"Did you…get…the troll?"

"No," John answered. "I stabbed it when it tried to stop me from getting you, but it wasn't a lethal hit. It'll be back."

Sam stared at John for a moment taking in the man's soaked appearance. "You got me?" he asked innocently.

"Dad had to save both of us," Dean said. "I jumped in after you and sank like a rock."

"For the record that was the stupidest thing you ever did," John told Dean. "Did you forget that you have a broken leg?"

"I was just trying to get to Sammy!" Dean replied shocked that his father was attacking him this way.

"But if you had stayed on shore I would have been able to get to him faster," John stated. "I wouldn't have had to rescue you first! Then this wouldn't have been such a close call!"

"I just did what I've been doing my entire life, what you raised me to do by the way!"

"What? Put yours and Sam's life in danger? I didn't teach you that!"

"I was trying to protect him. I admit I forgot about my fucking leg but my only concern was stopping a troll from eating my little brother!"

"Stop it!" Sam yelled. "Please…please don't fight." He suddenly understood how Dean felt. Sam was used to fighting with his Dad. Hell, he and the old man had made an art form out of verbal sparring, but it seemed so wrong to watch his father fight with Dean. It wasn't natural and it shocked Sam at just how upsetting it was. Maybe it was the fact that he had just died and come back to life but regardless he couldn't handle watching his family fight right now.

John watched Sam become more and more distressed and his hands started to tremble ever so slightly.

"Sammy, Sammy, stay with us," John ordered softly and tapped at his sons face. "He's going into shock."

"We need to get him to the hospital," Dean said.

"Nuh…no hospitals," Sam protested.

"You have to go, Sammy," Dad told him. "There's pollution, bacteria, and other harmful stuff in that water. We can't take a risk of your lungs getting infected."

"I don't…want to go…to the hospital," Sam complained weakly.

John was growing frustrated. He wasn't about to argue about this. There were many times he had been fine with doctoring up his sons, but he knew this situation called for a professional. Shit, Sam had been dead for several minutes. His son was going to the hospital whether he liked it or not.

John stood up and helped Dean to his feet and then together they pulled Sam up.

"Ahhhh!" Sam cried suddenly.

"Sammy?" Dean gasped.

John noticed the blood on Sam's wet shirt first. He gently lifted up the fabric that clung to his boy's skin and swore when he saw the bite marks.

"The bastard took a bite out of him," John announced.

"How bad?" Dean demanded.

"There are a few deep puncture wounds but I can't tell if he's hurt internally. A couple of these are bleeding pretty badly. He needs a hospital…now."

With Dean's help John put Sam over his shoulder and carried his son up the embankment. Dean was awestruck by his father strength and determination. Sam wasn't exactly light as a feather and the climb back to the truck was a steep one but John made it to the top almost effortlessly and never stumbled under Sam's weight.

Twice Sam cried out softly in pain and then hissed loudly as John bent forward to put Sam back on his feet. Dean was ready to grab Sam as John let go. Together they got Sam back in the middle of the truck and John pulled back onto the rode to head to the nearest hospital.

Sam leaned against Dean. His head hurt, his chest hurt, but the pain in those places was nothing compared to his side. He felt so cold but he knew that was mostly due to shock and not blood loss. Dean had his arms around him and was rubbing Sam's arms briskly in an attempt to warm him up and keep the shock at bay.

"How the hell did this happen?" John asked.

"Trap," Sam mumbled.

"It set a trap," Dean explained. "When Sam stepped down the troll pulled a rope that had been buried in the mud and then dragged Sam into the water."

"So you had to go running in after him with a broken leg! Did it never occur to you to shout for me, or better yet, Sam, why did you approach the edge all by yourself? Both of you screwed up tonight and it's a wonder you're both not dead!"

Neither Sam nor Dean spoke a word. They had messed up and neither of them wanted to be yelled at by their father anymore. They could easily see the anger rolling off of him in great waves.

The truth was John wasn't angry at his children. He was frustrated that they had made such stupid mistakes, but that wasn't his overwhelming emotion. Tonight had scared the shit out of him. Sammy actually died…right there in front of him. Swimming Dean back to the shore while watching his other son struggling for life out in the middle of that damn river had damn near killed him. He had been faced with something Dean still refused to acknowledge, that sometimes you have to make a choice to forsake one to save the other. He had saved Dean but let Sammy die. It was nothing short of divine intervention that he had still been able to bring Sammy back from the brink.

John stole a glance at his boys and saw that Sammy had drifted off to sleep lying on Dean. He heard Dean coughing and realized that while he had been replaying the events that just happened in his mind Dean had been coughing quite a bit.

"Dean, how much water did you swallow?" John asked. "And don't even think of lying to me!"

"I'm all right, Dad. I swallowed some and inhaled a bit but I'm fine." Dean coughed a bit more then rolled down the window and spit out a mouthful of water and phlegm.

"I want you to get looked at by the doctor too," John announced.

"Dad, I'm fine. Sammy's the one who needs a doctor."

"Dean don't argue with me," John snapped.

Several minutes later John pulled into a hospital parking lot. He ran around the truck and helped Dean out before reaching inside and sliding his arms under Sam's long legs and behind his back. He carefully pulled his still sleeping son closer to the door and then adjusted his grip on him before lifting him out of the seat. Sam's head fell softly on John's shoulder and Dean slammed the door shut before rushing up to his Dad to help him carry his brother.

Sam came too slightly as he noticed the jostling. "Dad?" he asked, sounding very young and confused.

John couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. It was the first time since he had been reunited with his sons that Sam called his name before Dean's.

"Just relax, Sammy. You're going to be okay," John offered.

The ER doors opened automatically and John and Dean carried Sam inside.

"I need some help here!" John called. Instantly two orderlies came rushing up with a bed and helped John lay Sam down. A doctor came running up.

"What happened?" the doctor asked as they followed the bed into one of the small rooms.

"He drowned," John said. "We were out fishing and the boat flipped. By the time I swam Dean to the shore Sammy had gone under. I found him and we resuscitated him. Also, there must have been some branches or something in the water. His side is messed up."

The doctor was already listening to Sam's lungs with his stethoscope. "His lungs are wet." He looked at the nurse. "I want him on oxygen now to help them out." He flashed a light into Sam's eyes. "Pupils are normal. Do you have a headache?"

"A little," Sam admitted. He lifted his head up so the nurse could fix the oxygen cord around his face.

"It's from lack of oxygen. Sam, what year is it?"

"2006."

"And what is your full name?"

"Samuel Francis Chester," he replied using the family's new alias.

The doctor quickly looked to John for confirmation and John shook his head yes.

"Sam, who is the president?"

"George Bush."

"Good, it doesn't seem you have any lasting effects." Next the doctor lifted Sam's shirt. He ignored Sam's side for a moment and looked at his chest. There were small bruises there from where John had performed chest compressions. "His heart is beating good and strong. Does your chest hurt at all?"

"It's sore but I can breath fine."

The doctor began to poke around at the bite marks on Sam's side. "You said a tree branch did this?"

"I don't really know for sure," John lied. "Like I said, I pulled Dean back to the shore first because of his leg. He couldn't tread water at all. Sam was holding his own for a bit. I…I had to make a choice," John explained. "By the time I got back Sammy was…he'd…he'd gone under. I dove down, found him, and when we got to shore he wasn't breathing and his side was hurt."

"This looks almost like teeth marks," the doctor said, but it's not like any bite wound I've ever seen before.

"Don't tell me someone around here flushed their pet alligator down the toilet," Dean cracked, "and now it's swimming up and down the river."

The doctor looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and then focused once more at Sam's wounds. "Do you remember how you go these?"

"No," Sam lied.

"Can you roll over slightly?"

Sam did as asked with a small grimace. The doctor poked and prodded. "Most of these have stopped bleeding but these two here, I think I'm going to put a couple of stitches in them. They are a bit bigger and deeper than the other. I'll fix them up after your showers. When was this arm broken?"

"Five weeks ago," John answered. "We were in a car accident. That's when Dean broke his leg. He needs to be looked at too. He took in some water also. He's been coughing."

"I'm fine," Dean replied.

"Not to worry young man. We'll just have a look at you. You're going to need to have that cast replaced."

Everyone looked at Dean's cast and saw that it was literally crusted with mud and slime. Sammy's cast didn't look much better.

"Nurse, I want a shot of antibiotics for both of them."

"Yes, doctor."

"I also want them both on oxygen for several hours."

"Wait, really, I'm fine," Dean protested even as he coughed once more.

Dean was nudged into sitting on the bed that was next to Sam's by a rather no-nonsense looking nurse. The doctor then listened to his heart and lungs.

"There is a little water in there. Not as much as your brother's but there none the less. You two just need to stay for a few hours for observation and then you'll be released." He turned to the nurse. "Get them out of those clothes and into some scrubs. I want them both taken to x-ray for those broken bones. After I see the x-rays I'll decide whether to recast them or put them in braces for their last week."

"Yes, sir," the nurse replied.

The doctor left the room and the no-nonsense looking nurse turned to the two boys. "I need you two to undress out of those clothes. Here are some gowns to put on until after your shower. Then I'll get you some scrubs." She put an oxygen cord around Dean's face before leaving. "I'll be back in a few minutes with your antibiotics."

"I don't suppose we can just take some pills instead of getting the needle?" Dean asked.

The nurse just glared at him in reply.

"No, of course not," Dean sighed. He looked to Sam to start complaining but Sam was actually half asleep again.

"Is it normal for him to be so sleepy?" Dean asked.

"His body had a big shock tonight. Sleep is its way of setting things back to rights," she said a little more kindly. "You're both going to be fine. Now get those filthy clothes off." She walked over to Sam to help him undress.

"I can do it," John offered.

"Okay," she replied and left to get their shots.

"Dean, do you need some help?" John asked.

"No, I can do it."

John walked over to Sam. "Sammy, sit up." He helped Sam sit up and then pulled his shirt over his cast and then over his head and dropped the muddy piece of cloth onto the floor. Sam's skin was every bit as dirty as his clothes were. Chunks of drying mud broke off and fell from his hair.

"Okay, lay back." Sam did and John helped him to slide the wet and clinging denim off his legs. John tossed the sheet over Sam so he would have some privacy as he pulled his boxers off.

"Dad?"

"Yeah Sammy?"

"Thank you."

"For what son?"

"For jumping in after me, especially since you said a few days ago that you wouldn't," Sam had a small smile on his face and John realized he was teasing him.

"Yeah, well, Dean would have given me grief for years if I hadn't," John teased back.

"Got that right," Dean replied, grinning as well from his bed.

"For the record," Sam added, "the next time I suggest we wait till morning, can we _please_ wait till the morning?"

"We'll see," was John reply.


	13. Author's Note

Author's note:

Sorry I haven't posted in a week. I have NOT quit the story. I am a school teacher and I'm in the middle of the last two weeks of school which means packing up the room, report cards, and completing permanent records. I am moving as well so I'm boxing up the house! Unfortunately by the time my day comes to an end there is either no time to write or I just don't have the energy to write.

The good news is that Friday is my last day for this school year. Hopefully I will have the next chapter posted by Monday or Tuesday. I promise to write my little heart out till this sucker is done!


	14. Feeling Whole Again

**Chapter 13: Feeling Whole Again**

**A/N:** Thank you all for being so patient and for keeping the "Write Faster" e-mails to a minimum **:-)** Here's the next chapter as promised and I already have a pretty good start and even the chapter after this. Enjoy.

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Once again Sam found himself sitting between his father and his brother. He felt a mix of emotions. His father had saved his life tonight. Sam had been done for but Dad pulled him back to the shore and his family literally brought him back from the dead. That bit of knowledge made him feel incredibly safe as he sat between the two people who loved him so much they would die, or even kill, for him…not that he wanted it to come to that. Still, for years he had questioned his father's love for him, and now to have that love confirmed by words and actions helped to fill a void in his heart that had existed since Jessica's death. Since losing Jess Sam had felt like a piece of him was missing and that it would never be returned. He realized tonight that he didn't feel that way anymore. Sure, he still loved and missed Jessica, but he was no longer a broken man. Sam was whole again because his brother and his father loved him.

"You're awfully quiet," Dean announced.

"Just thinking," Sam said softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful feeling that currently was in the cab of the truck.

"That's never a good thing," Dean grinned.

"Actually, this time I think it is," Sam replied with his own grin.

"Why, what are you thinking about?"

Sam knew he couldn't really say the thoughts that had crossed his mind. Dean would just roll his eyes and make some crude joke.

"Just good things," Sam replied simply, hoping that would be enough for his brother. Apparently it was.

"Good," Dean replied.

Sam looked over at his father. He knew Dad had been listening to them talk but he didn't seem to feel a need to join the conversation. His focus was straight ahead on the road. His grip on the steering wheel seemed unnaturally tight. He was tempted to ask his father if he was okay but decided against it. John Winchester would only tell what he was thinking when he felt he needed to share. Asking him to share before he was ready would be a waste of time.

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It was almost four in the morning by the time the Winchesters returned to their hotel room. Sam and Dean had been given clean bills of health and new stiff Velcro braces to wear instead of their fiberglass casts. Sam also sported several new stitches to close his deeper puncture wounds. The boys had been allowed to shower at the hospital but John was still wearing his mud crusted clothes.

Dean dropped onto his side of the bed. "Ow," he grumbled and rubbed his ass. "I still don't understand why we had to get our shots in our ass."

"You probably could have gotten them in your arm if you hadn't insisted on pissing off the nurse," John smirked.

"Yeah, well Attila the Hun needs to improve her bedside manner."

"Quite complaining," Sam said. "You got one shot. I got four!"

"Yeah, well that's what happens when you let a troll take a bite out of you."

"I didn't LET it take a bite, it sort of helped itself," Sam pointed out. He removed his sling and lay back in his bed not bothering to remove his scrubs. They were actually very comfortable.

"Sammy, how big was the thing?" John asked.

"I'm not entirely sure. Much of what happened is a bit of a blur for me but I would guess it to be about three and a half feet or so. It's pretty strong and of course there are the razor sharp teeth. It's cautious though. It never wanted a direct attack. It wanted me to drown first so it could avoid injury. A small child would never stand a chance against it."

"What did it look like?" Dean asked. "I couldn't see much from where I was."

"Its skin is lizard like, but it's bigger than a lizard and it has a longer snout and taller forehead." Sam yawned. It had been a long night and the pain relievers they had given him just before leaving the hospital were kicking in.

"Okay, I want both of you to get some sleep," John said. "I figure we'll go back around ten o'clock and disarm all of the troll's booby traps. Then we'll see if we can find and kill it."

Dean sat down on the bed he shared with Sam and started to remove his brace. The doctor had given him permission to sleep without it but it had to be on when he was awake. He also kept on his scrubs and slid his tired body under the covers. It felt good to be in bed, out of the hospital, and to know that his family was safe and together.

Sam and Dean both snuggled down under the covers and let out comfortable sighs. John turned out the light. He quietly shed his dirty clothes and grabbed his toiletries from his bag. He also made a point of grabbing to container of salt and lining the door and windowsill with it so they'd be safe. He used a thumb tack to hang the dream catcher on the wall over Sammy's head but he doubted Sam would have any nightmares tonight. Sam had always slept more peacefully when Dean was close by.

Finally John went into the bathroom to get clean so he could get a few hours sleep before going back to the hunt.

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Dean was the first to wake the next morning. He stretched out in bed and looked over at Sammy. His brother was still deeply asleep, probably with help from the drugs. He realized Sam had slept through the night with any nightmares, which was always a blessing. After drowning and almost being eaten he wouldn't have blamed Sam if he had had one.

He sat up in bed and put his brace back on his leg. He didn't really think he needed it any more and even told the doctor that but of course Dad had sided with the doctor that they needed to error on the side of caution. Dad had even told him that he was no good to them if he was lame. He climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. When he stepped back into the room he saw his father up out of bed and hovering over Sam. Dad quickly raised a finger to his lips motioning for Dean to keep it down.

"He all right?" Dean whispered.

"Yeah, I was just checking to see if he was running a fever. The doctor said to keep an eye on both of you for the next couple of days."

"Feel free to keep and eye on Sam, but I'm fine," Dean said softly.

"You can stop whispering," Sam groaned and stretched in bed.

"Sorry, son, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," Sam said with a yawn. He sat up in bed and rubbed at his face with his free arm. He felt a little groggy which he guessed was a result of the pills.

"We need to get cleaned up and pack up. Check out is at eleven."

"What about the troll?" Sam asked. He didn't want his father to cancel the hunt because he had gotten hurt.

"Don't worry, we're going after it today, but I don't want to have to pay for another night in the hotel if I can avoid it. I want to go home tonight when this is over."

It sounded like a wonderful plan to Sam but he could see from the look on Dean's face that his brother wasn't in all that much of a hurry to go back home. Sam realized that Dean hadn't been kidding when he said he wasn't cut out to live a normal life. Life on the road was the only kind Dean had ever known. Now Dad was changing they way they had always done things and Dean was having a hard time adjusting to this new way of living.

"So, uh, what are we going to do today? I mean, it should only take about an hour to scope this thing out and find his traps. Are we going to spend the rest of the day sitting on a park bench until the sun goes down?" Dean asked.

"We'll think of something," John said.

"Actually, I have an idea," Sam piped in.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Uh, just trust me," Sam replied with a grin.

"Trust you with what?" Dean persisted.

"It's a surprise, but I will need you two to drive me somewhere after we have breakfast."

"Where to?" John asked.

"You'll see."

Dean waited for Dad protest. Dad was not known for liking surprises and didn't like not being able to make the final decisions on things. Dean actually hoped Dad didn't tear into Sam though. The kid had been through enough last night.

"Well, I suggest we pack up then. It shouldn't take too long since none of us needs to shower," John replied, and then he did something that Dean never remembered seeing his father do. John smirked at them.

Sam climbed out of bed slowly, his side obviously causing him a little discomfort. He put his sling back on and wandered into the bathroom.

For a moment Dean wondered if Dad was possessed again but then when John yelled at Dean to snap out of it and hurry up Dean's realized his Dad was still Dad. Part of Dean liked this new and improved John Winchester, which resulted from his father watching Sammy and him almost die in a fucked up car crash. Now Dad would be hit with the affects of almost losing Sam again last night. But then, another part of Dean wasn't sure about the changes in his father. Sometimes it actually bugged him.

This new John Winchester did things that were out of character and it threw Dean when he did that. There was comfort to be found in the things you knew. Still, he knew that his father was trying really hard to do better and he also knew that it was important for Sammy that these changes continue. Sammy would never be able to stay if he and Dad had reverted into their old pattern of constant bitching.

As much as Dean loved seeing his father and brother getting along, he couldn't deny the touch of jealousy he felt. If Sam were still at Stanford and it had just been dad and him in that car that night, would he alone have been enough to make his father change? Did Dad quit drinking and get them a home because of his concern for both of his sons, or because of his concern for Sam? No sooner did the thought cross his mind he felt guilty for thinking it. Of course his father loved him, and Dean found himself cursing the demon for ever putting doubts in his head.

"I'm ready to go," Sam announced as he came out of the bathroom now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. "Man is it easier to get dressed when you can actually take the brace off and then put it back on afterwards. I really don't think I need to wear this thing anymore, though. My arm feels fine."

"It's staying on," John insisted. "You two both heard the doctor last night. He said the bones had knitted back together but they were still weak. There's no point in risking another break just because you two numskulls are feeling impatient."

Dean and Sam shared an amused look and then Dean headed into the bathroom to get dressed. A few minutes later all were pack and ready to go.

"Let's toss this stuff in the truck and go," John said.

After a quick stop to turn in the room key John drove to the diner that was just down the road where they found $1.99 breakfast specials. They placed their orders and sipped their hot coffee.

"Sam fidgeted slightly. The booth wasn't very comfortable and there was no way for him to sit without putting some pressure on his stitches.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just now learning that having teeth holes in your back isn't the greatest thing." Sam looked up his father and saw a strange look in his face. Sam had a feeling he was the reason for that look. "Dad, I'm sorry about last night," Sam apologized. "I should have been more careful."

"Sammy, I'm not mad," John said. He saw the disbelieving looks on his sons' faces and continued. "Yeah, last night I was pissed, I admit it. Neither of you used good judgment but I'm not exactly blameless in all of this. I should have waited for morning the way someone had suggested. Today we will be more careful. I'll go to the water's edge while you two hang back. I've got a shovel and I'll go side to side searching for traps and disable them."

"How are we going to catch the troll?" Sam asked.

"Actually, I have an idea on that," Dean replied.

"What?" John asked.

"Last night that troll pulled Sam in like a fish on a hook. I say we repay the favor. Once we locate his other traps I say we connect the winch on the back of the truck to the ropes. When it gets dark we jiggle the rope and let the troll think he's made a fresh catch. When he tugs on the rope we flip on the winch and reel the little bastard in."

"What's to keep the troll from letting go of the rope?" Sam asked.

"His first reaction will be to hold on. He didn't get to eat last night. He's probably good and hungry. He won't want to lose a second meal. Besides we'll pull him out so fast he won't realize what's happening. Dad can be standing on the shore and chop the little critter's head right off."

"I like it," John replied. "Good job son."

Sam watched as Dean's whole face lit up. It never failed to amaze him how just a few words or praise from their father could do that to both Dean and him.

"I just have one suggestion," John added. "The winch actually works pretty slowly. It's more about pulling than speed. When the troll grabs his rope you should probably just floor the truck and pull him out that way."

"Okay," Dean nodded.


	15. Two Plans

**Chapter 14: Two Plans**

All talking of troll hunting stopped when their food arrived. The three ate in silence for a few minutes. Dean was pleased as he watched his brother eat his entire breakfast. He had noticed for a while now that Sam was eating more. He had a feeling that was because of Dad being there. Sam knew Dad wanted him to regain the weight he had lost from the coma and little by little Sam was bulking up once more. A week of physical therapy and a week of sparring, exercising, and practicing had also helped to give Sam some of his muscle tone back.

They finished eating and Dad paid the bill while Dean flirted with the waitress. The girl was young and had her hair in two long braids that reminded Sam of Sarah. He suddenly found himself thinking about her. What was she doing? Was she getting along with her father? Did she miss him?

"Stop it," he told himself. He had made a decision to stay out of her life and he wasn't going to change his mind. Until the demon was gone no woman would ever be safe with him.

"Ready to go?" John asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"Dean," John called.

Dean's head snapped up and he gave the waitress one last suggestive smile before grabbing a toothpick from the counter, sticking it in his mouth, and then walking out the door.

"Where to, Sam?" Dad asked.

"We need a supermarket," Sam said.

"Dude, we just had breakfast?" Dean asked. "What do we need a market for?"

"Because what I have in mind requires a supermarket," Sam laughed. "You need to chill out."

"Hey, I'm chilled. I just like knowing what's about to happen is all."

"Control freak."

"Geek boy."

"Boys," John groaned, although truthfully he loved to listen to them banter back and forth.

John saw a Kroger and pulled into the parking lot. They headed inside and Sam grabbed a shopping cart. John and Dean followed as Sam went into deli department and grabbed turkey and ham sub sandwiches and a container of potato salad and coleslaw. Next in the cart was a bag of chips and Oreos followed with a pack of Pepsi.

"We need just a couple more things," Sam said. He walked to the seasonal aisle and grabbed a 99 cent Styrofoam cooler and then a bag of ice for a dollar twenty-five.

"This is your big idea," Dean smirked, "a picnic?"

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"What made you think of this cheesy idea?" Dean asked.

"Jess and I did this once. We were flying back from visiting her parents and the plane had engine trouble. It was forced to land in Colorado. Because it was Labor Day weekend all the other flights were booked. We had to wait almost nine hours for our next flight to California and between the two of us we had a whopping $14." Sam smiled as he recalled the memory of that day with Jessica. "Her idea to pass the time was to find a market, grab some cold cuts and bread, a few snacks, and then spend the entire day at the park lying beneath a tree."

Dean had been tempted to tease his baby brother but the look of longing on his face as he talked about a happier time in his life made him stop. Dean remembered what the demon had said. Sam had been about to ask Jess to marry him, had even gone ring shopping. Jessica had been much more to Sam than just a girlfriend. She had been his future wife, the future mother to his children, and now she was gone. "It sounds nice," Dean finally said.

"It was one of the best days of my life," Sam agreed and gave one more wistful smile. "Anyway, I thought that…well…since we have all this time to kill that maybe we could do the same. We can hang out by the river, relax, wait for dark to fall, and then kick some troll ass."

John put his hand on Sam's shoulder and gave a little squeeze. He also saw the look on his boys face, and he could remember once upon a time doing the same thing with Mary. "That sounds like a fine idea. We can even do a little fishing. I have my rod in the truck." Dean and Sam knew that their dad always kept a tent, blankets, and fishing gear on him at all times for those occasions when there was no money for food or lodging.

"Well, let's pay for this stuff and go then," Dean suggested.

Dad grabbed the buggy since he could see that Sam was having some trouble pushing it. He suspected that Sam had skipped out on his pain medication this morning. As they neared the register Dean saw a pack of cards and grabbed them figuring they would help pass the time. He also grabbed a bag of peanut M&M's and chucked them into the cart. Picnics weren't really Dean's thing, but it was his job to make Sam happy so if a picnic was what his brother wanted then he would get one.

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John pulled out the blanket he kept in the truck. It had definitely seen better days. There were several rips and tears in the material and even a few places were the batting was coming out.

John walked to a place Sam had picked by a tree that was about a hundred feet from the bridge and he placed the blanket on the ground. Dean set the cooler on the corner to keep it from blowing away. The bag of Oreos and the tackle box were used to anchor down two more corners.

Dean stole a glance at the couple of other families that had set up picnic areas for the day and saw their big shiny coolers, folding chairs, and barbeques. The few children there had soccer balls, horseshoes, and other assorted play things. He looked back at their shabby blanket, disposable Styrofoam cooler and the dirty tackle box and suddenly felt out of place. Then he looked at Sam and saw his brother looking at their pathetic little setup with a big smile on his face. God his little brother was such a dork.

"You two boys stay here and have a seat. I'm going under the bridge to find all of the troll's traps," John said.

"You should have someone watching your back," Dean pointed out.

"I'll be fine. The troll isn't going to try anything in broad daylight. He won't even show himself until dusk. Besides, we need to be careful not to draw attention to ourselves with all these families about. You two stay here and I'll go below."

"Yes sir."

John grabbed his small hand shovel and headed down the bank. Sam and Dean had a seat on the blanket. Sam looked out at the water and watched as several ducks and swans made their way back and forth. The temperature was perfect and the slight breeze rustled the leaves in the large oak that stood over them.

"So did you and Jessica do this often or just the one time?"

"That lay over in Colorado was our first picnic but we had several more after that. We also went to the zoo several times." Sam laughed, "Jess loved the pandas. They had this baby panda that was born in captivity and it was this big miracle that it survived cause usually those born at zoos die within the first couple of weeks. She would log on to the zoo website to watch the live panda cam they had in the panda house. On our first anniversary I got her this giant stuffed panda bear along with a dozen peach roses."

"Why not red?" Dean asked.

"Peach was her favorite color."

"Oh," Dean replied. "So, uh, were you really planning on asking Jess to marry you?"

Sam looked down at the ground for a moment before lifting his eyes and answering. "Yeah, I was. I had spotted the perfect ring at this jewelry store not to far from campus. It was an antique jewelry store and Jess had commented on it several times. Anyway, I was waiting to see if I got that scholarship to law school, you know, that interview I was trying to hurry back for. If I passed the interview I was literally going to buy the ring that day and propose later that night. I had even called her father to ask for permission." Both were quiet for a moment.

"Sam, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I knew it hurt you to lose Jess but I guess I never really knew just how important she was to you until that night when the demon said you wanted to marry her. I knew you were grieving for her and I wanted to be supportive of you, but part of me wanted you to just get over it so you'd be okay again. I never really thought about how you were experiencing the same thing Dad had gone through all those years ago when mom died."

"Its okay, Dean," Sam replied. "You didn't know how much I loved her, and I never really talked about it. Besides, you're what held me together through all of that. I feel bad for Dad. When mom died he had no one."

"That's not true," Dean replied. "He had us, and in our own way we pulled him through. He couldn't put a bullet in his head because then there would be no one to protect us."

"I guess, but it must have been hard. I can suddenly understand all the drinking. When Jess was first gone there was a many a night I'd wake from a nightmare and think, 'God I want a drink,' but then I would remember Dad and how he would be so sick the next morning and I figured it wasn't worth it. Then I would just end up missing Jess and be puking at the same time."

"Sounds like good logic," Dean grinned. "Besides, you can't hold your liquor for shit. Seriously, I thought one of the purposes of a college education was to build up a tolerance to booze."

Sam laughed, "I managed to avoid the whole keg thing."

"And the sorority chicks!" Dean smirked. "Sometimes I wonder how you are my brother."

"I didn't need sorority girls. I had Jess." Sam stopped talking after that and Dean decided to be quiet too and let Sam have a moment to himself. Besides, the conversation was starting to border on becoming a Lifetime original movie but they hadn't crossed the line to a full fledged chick-flick moment since there had been no tears, sniffles, or offers of hugs.

Sam closed his eyes and let his memories go back to his life with Jess and their little apartment. He missed her but the memories now made him smile instead grieve. He had loved and lost, but at least he had had her in his life even if it was only for a short time. He wouldn't give up his memories of that time for anything. She would always he his first love.

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John made his final sweep of the muddy bank. He had uncovered eight traps and had been careful not to disturb the ropes too much for fear of alerting the troll just in case it was under the water waiting for something to tug one of the lines.

John had to admit that he had not seen this one coming. He knew trolls were supposedly good hunters but they were still technically animals. He figured them to operate much like a mountain lion or even a coyote; get a sniff of something, stalk it, attack it and eat it. He never expected this level of sophistication from the creature. He would have to make a note of this in the journal later.

He took a moment to look at the lay of the land. The winch on the truck was definitely long enough to reach the lassos on the ground so hooking them on wouldn't be a problem. He would need to have his cell phone ready to call Dean so he would know to floor the truck.

He realized they needed a black up plan just in case the troll didn't take the bait or if it let go of the rope too soon. He looked up and saw the answer. The underside of the bridge was like a giant monkey bar playground. Someone could easily climb up in there with a gun and surprise the troll. Sam could drive the truck and Dean could climb up and be ready with the gun. John would stay on the bank with the machete and hopefully decapitate the thing once the truck pulled it ashore.

Then John remembered Dean's leg. There was no way Dean could safely climb around up there. No Dean would have to keep his original job and drive the truck. That left Sammy, but his arm was hurt. One thing John was sure of, he didn't want Sammy or Dean standing on the river bank when the job went down. No, that would definitely be John's job. Sam would just have to be careful and climb up there. The beams were close together so it shouldn't be too hard of a climb for him and he would be safe and out of the way when the troll was reeled in. He nodded his head. It was a good plan.

John walked away from the bridge and stepped to where the ground was drier. He washed his hands in the river removing several layers of grime from digging for traps. Then he carefully rinsed off the bottoms of his boots. He looked back at the bridge and then towards the sky. There was still at least six hours before dusk. It was time to go spend some time with his boys.

A/N: Now what could _possibly_ go wrong with Pappa Winchester's brilliant plan? Hmmm………


	16. Time to Kick Some troll Ass

**Chapter 15: Time to Kick some Troll Ass**

**A/N:** Wow, I just want to say thank you to all of my reviewers. This is the first story I've ever written to break 300. Many heart felt thanks for your kind words and your inspiration.

I've spent the past four or five chapters building up for this one so I hope I did the big battle justice and that you all like it.

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John found Sam and Dean still on the blanket playing poker. The two looked pretty relaxed. Dean obviously won the round because he took his cards and all but shoved them in Sam's face which caused Sam to bust out laughing and shove his brother's hand away.

"Glad to see you two boys relaxing while your old man is down below busting his ass."

Sam and Dean immediately looked guilty but then John laughed at their expressions and they realized he was just messing with them.

"So did you find all the traps?" Dean asked.

"Yes I did. I have to say he's a crafty little bugger. He had eight of those damn things hidden beneath the surface."

"It's amazing that only six children have gone missing so far," Sam said.

"Yeah, but you gotta figure most parents aren't letting their kids go down there alone, and then they probably head home come night time. It's the rare occasion when a kid sneaks off or the parents aren't looking that the troll gets them. The rest of the time the thing is probably munching on rabbits and raccoons," Dean pointed out.

"I've altered the plan a bit," John said. "Dean, I still want you in the truck. You'll be listening for your cell phone to ring. I'll have mine set and ready to go. As soon as I see the ropes being tugged I'll hit send. I'll be standing there waiting for him with the machete."

"Okay, but what's different?" Dean asked.

"I want Sam to climb up under the bridge with my rifle. It has a silencer on it so we won't wake the neighborhood."

"Sam's arm is in a brace," Dean pointed out. "How's he supposed to climb with one arm useless and a rifle in his other hand?"

"The rifle has a strap. He'll throw it over his back. As for his arm, he should be able to manage. The design of the bridge is such that climbing up there will be quite easy, even one handed."

"It shouldn't be a problem," Sam said with a shrug.

"So if this thing gets by me I want you to take it out," John continued.

"Okay."

"I want you to stay close to the side, though. If for some reason you fall I want you landing on the ground and not in the water. I need you boys to follow orders. This whole plan is all about timing."

"Yes sir," Sam and Dean replied.

"Since we can't do anything until everyone goes home for the night we might as well relax." With that said John lay back on the blanket, put his sunglasses over his eyes, and rested his head in the palms of his hands.

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It was five hours later and finally the several families that had come out for a day at the river/park/woods decided they'd had enough fun and packed up to go home.

John and the boys were finishing off the Oreos with some now luke warm sodas.

"Your mother and I did this a few times," John spoke up. "It was before you were born," he said to Dean. "I was fresh out of the Marines and she was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. Man I fell hard for her. I didn't have much money then so we would go out on a picnic or drive into the country for an afternoon. Did you two know that the first time I asked her to marry me she said no?"

"You're kidding," Sam gasped.

"Get out," Dean added.

"Yep, she said I had no ambition, that I spent too much time with my buddies and that I needed to finish growing up."

"So what did you do?" Sam asked.

"I told my bar buddies to take a hike, got a job at the garage in town, opened a bank account, and bought a suit. I also spruced up the small apartment I had been living in. I painted the rooms in her favorite colors and even bought a bouquet of flowers to put on the table next to the sofa."

"How did Mom react?" Dean asked.

"I brought her back to my newly redecorated place, told her what I had done and then asked her to marry me again and she finally said yes. Let me tell you boys, nothing will tame a man faster than a good woman."

"No woman is ever going to tame me," Dean smirked.

"You just haven't found the right one yet," John replied. "Trust me, when the day comes that you do, you'll do what ever it takes to make her yours. Trust me son, women are good for a lot more than just a wham, bam, thank ya ma'am. I know you fancy yourself as quite the ladies man, but think about your mother. Would you have wanted some man to lie to her just to get her into bed and then leave her hanging the next day? Really, Dean, you should have a little more respect for the opposite sex."

"Hey, I respect the opposite sex just fine," Dean protested.

"Especially when the opposite sex is busty, slutty, and easy," Sam added with a laugh.

"Shut up," Dean told him.

John looked at his watch and announced that it was time to start putting their plan in action. The three cleaned up the remains of their picnic and stowed it in the truck.

Dean got in the truck and backed it up as close to the drop off as possible without putting the truck in danger of toppling over the side.

"Release the winch," John ordered. Dean flipped the switch and the long cable began unwinding. John grabbed the hook and pulled the winch down the side towards the traps the troll had set.

Sam stood to the side and watched as his father waited for there to be an excess amount of coil before clipping the ropes onto the cable.

"Stop," Sam called to Dean when Dad had the last lasso attached.

Dean got out of the truck and stood next to Sam. John made his way back up to the truck and opened his weapons compartment. Once again the boys looked at the contents appreciatively.

"Dad, just out of curiosity, when did you get as hooked up as Batman? I mean, you aren't really Bruce Wayne or something?" Dean asked.

"I wish," John replied. "As for how I got my new toys, let's just say that I meet a fellow hunter who happens to have military connections."

"Friends in high places," Sam whistled.

"Exactly," John grinned. He picked up his rifle, attached the strap and handed it to Sam. "Do you think you can handle this? It's a repeating rifle. It has some kick to it."

"Dad, you raised me," Sam pointed out.

John shrugged as if that was fair enough.

Dean was suddenly wishing he was going under the bridge so he could play with Dad's fancy gun. The thing had a laser scope and everything. John must have read his mind.

"You can do the shooting on the next hunt," John told him.

"What?" Dean replied like he didn't have a clue what Dad was talking about.

John then pulled out his machete and put a handgun in his waist band. He handed Dean a second machete and a handgun as well.

"Okay, any last questions?" John asked.

"No sir," the two boys replied.

"Okay then, Sammy, let's get you up under the bridge. Dean, stay here with the truck and keep you cell next to you."

"Yes sir."

Dean watched as his family once more went down the drop off to the shore below. He walked sideways a bit to watch as they went under the bridge. He also made a point of keeping an eye on the water's surface to make sure fuggly wasn't out there watching them.

Sam followed his father to the underside of the bridge and looked up. Dad was right, it was like a children's playground up there and it would be a great place to hide with the rifle. Sam was also pleased that Dad was letting him do this. He knew the only reason he was carrying the rifle and not the designated driver was because Dean's leg would prevent him from climbing. Dean always ended up with the potentially more dangerous missions when Dad was handing out orders but this time he didn't have a choice and he had to use Sam.

Sam tossed the rifle on his back and Dad gave him a boost up to the first rung and with only a bit of difficulty Sam managed to pull himself all the way up into the rafters. He then climbed through the rafters until he was about eight feet from the edge but still clearly over the ground. Sam looked down and realized he really didn't want to fall from this height. The drop probably wasn't enough to kill him but it would sure as hell hurt.

He backed his body up against two connecting beams for support and then used his long legs to anchor himself in place so the kickback from the gun wouldn't dislodge him. He looked down to his Dad and saw him giving him a thumbs up sign. Sam repeated the gesture and watched as his father scooted back towards the base of the bridge and hid in the shadows. Now it was simply a waiting game.

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Dean sat in the truck bored to death. He hated being on the sidelines. He was a man of action and right now he felt like he was missing all the fun. He looked at the cell phone almost willing the damn thing to ring so he could get this show on the road. He looked to the sky and watched as a storm slowly moved in. He could see soft flashes of lightning and even hear the distant rumble of thunder. He hoped the storm would hold off until the hunt was done but somehow doubted they would get that lucky.

A few minutes later the full moon was blocked from view as the first traces of clouds floated in front of it.

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An hour and a half had gone by without anything happening. Sam tried once more to find a position that was comfortable. He had long since lost all sensation in his rear end. He was also cold. Since the sun had gone down the temperature had dropped and the approaching storm wasn't helping the situation. Thick clouds blocked any trace of moonlight and made for an incredibly black night. It was almost too dark to hunt and Sam realized he didn't have a flashlight.

Suddenly the clouds illuminated in a flash of lightning and Sam was able to see his father crouching down below. Then the world was dark once more. It was only because Sam was a trained hunter that his eyes allowed him to see his father creep from his position and head towards the cable. He watched as his dad gave a tug on the line. He stood poised, ready for attack, but nothing happened. Another flash a lightning gave Sam a better view of his father pulling on the traps a second time.

This time Dad must have felt a return tug, because he pulled out his cell phone and pressed the button alerting Dean.

000

"Yeah, about freaking time," Dean said as he gunned the engine and floored the vehicle. At first he didn't feel anything but a second later he felt the pull on the vehicle and knew he reeling in the troll for his father.

000

Sam heard the truck roar to life and then take off. He raised his gun towards the water and waited.

John backed up several steps and held his machete like a Samurai warrior. He watched as the ropes were pulled in and he could see a large shape in the water creating a wake behind it as it was dragged forward. The object only had about ten more feet and it was be on dry land when suddenly it disappeared. Shit, the troll had let go!

Sam had also been watching the water and like his father he also realized the troll had been smart enough to let go of the rope. Both hunters were on edge waiting for something, anything, to happen. They didn't have to wait long.

From the ground John saw a large spray of water go flying up and he watched as the troll jumped out of the water and latched onto the underside of the bridge not ten feet from Sam.

"Sammy! Watch out!" John cried.

Sam quickly repositioned himself so he was facing the troll which was advancing on him quickly. Last night the troll was simply an animal after a meal, tonight it was an animal that was under attack and it was ready to fight to save itself.

John watched as the troll swung from rafter to rafter with the easy of a monkey. He heard the soft zip noise from the silencer that told him Sam had fired off two shots at it but he missed both times. The troll moved too quickly. Then the troll let out a screech of pure rage. John realized the thing was going to attack Sam.

He started to hurry towards the edge of the bridge to climb up when a noise from the water drew his attention. He looked back and saw two more trolls climbing out of the water. These were only about two feet tall and were clearly the children of the troll that was after Sam.

"Hey you ugly bitch!" John called up to the mother troll as he ran towards her children.

Both Sam and the troll watched as John advanced on the two smaller creatures below. Sam tried to take advantage of the mother's distraction to fire off a shot at her. He raised the gun and fired but at that second she moved to growl at his father and the bullet only clipped her shoulder. She howled in pain and whipped her head back around to glare at Sam. She snarled and lightning glowed off her razor sharp teeth. Sam fired the gun again but she ducked under the rafter and began swinging back and forth wildly and the many rafters and beams blocked Sam from getting a lock on her.

"Shit!" Sam griped. He needed to change his position. The troll knew where he was and she was slowly but surely working her way towards him by swinging under the rafters. Her agility and familiarity with the bridge gave her an edge.

Sam tossed the rifle over his back and began to move from beam to beam using his legs to help him reach the next one. The brace on his arm was definitely slowing him down. He didn't even hesitate. He ripped open the Velcro and dropped the item to the ground below.

000

John managed to decapitate one of the trolls in a flash. As he turned towards the other one it jumped at him and lunged for his throat with its teeth. John dropped the machete and staggered backwards using his hands to keep the thing from tearing his throat out. He fell on his ass in the mud trying to pry the thing off of him. His fingers were quickly cut and sliced open as he used them to hold the creatures jaws open.

000

Sam now used all four limbs to move under the bridge. He was about to reach out to the next rafter when the troll swung up lightning quick and slashed Sam across his chest with her long claws.

"Ahh!" Sam cried. He pulled the gun forward and raised the rifle to fire. The troll smacked the end of the barrel and the only thing that prevented the gun from falling to the ground was the strap that held it to Sam's body. Sam didn't have time to aim the rifle again so he used his long leg and kicked out at the troll. His foot connected with her chest and he sent her sailing. She was able to use her claws to latch on to another beam and pull herself up to safety.

000

John had almost pulled the thing from his throat when the smaller troll used it claws to start tearing away at his chest.

"Fuck!" John cursed.

000

Dean raced down the hill as fast as his leg would let him. He saw his father on the ground struggling with a troll that was putting up one hell of a fight. Dean ran over, picked up the fallen machete and then kicked the troll clear off his father. He didn't hesitate. He jogged the five steps needed to reach the stunned creature and started to hack away at its body.

000

In the next instant John found himself fighting with the air. The troll was suddenly gone from his grasp. He looked up to see Dean chopping away at the thing over and over until it was literally nothing more than pieces.

000

Sam took aim and fired a bullet right into the troll's chest. Again she howled but the one bullet wasn't enough to kill her. She dropped down below the rafters holding on like a monkey once again. This time Sam wasn't going to let her get away that easily. He fell backwards as well, hanging upside down from the rafter using his legs to anchor himself on like an acrobat. He aimed the rifle and fired off three shots into the fleeing troll's back. The creature cried out and fell from the bridge. Unfortunately hanging upside down didn't provide Sam any protection from the rifle's kickback and he lost his perch and also fell.

000

"Sammy!" John gasped as he stood up. John and Dean watched as Sam hung upside down and fired off several shots. They heard the troll cry out and saw it plummet to the ground. Then with horror they watched as lightning filled the sky just in time to let them clearly see Sam also falling from the bridge.

"Shit!" Dean cried as he and John both ran to where Sam was falling. They only had a moment to stretched out their arms, clasped their hands together, and prepared to do what they could to soften Sam's fall.

000

Sam didn't cry out or scream as he fell. He simply waited for the impact. Needless to say he was surprised when he failed to make contact with the ground. Instead he felt himself wrapped in his family's arms just before all three of them hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and curses.

"Fuck Sammy!" Dean groaned as it felt like his arms had just been pulled from their sockets. "It was easier to do that when you eight."

"Dean, what…?" Sam gasped as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Sam, are you okay?" John asked.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine but Dad you're bleeding!"

"Superficial wounds," John scoffed. Lightning and thunder rumbled once more and then the sky split open as torrential rains cascaded down on them soaking them all through and through.

The three hunters struggled to their feet. Dean was rubbing at his shoulders, Sam held tight to his injured and bleeding chest, and John had his hands clenched tight to stop the blood flow from his fingers. Together they walked to where the mother troll lay on the ground. John used his foot to roll the thing over and was glad to see it was dead. He picked up his dropped machete and decapitated the thing just to be on the safe side.

John looked at Sam. "Mighty fine shooting there, Tex."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, but you could have skipped the whole 'let's fall from a bridge' stunt," Dean pointed out as he continued to rub his shoulders.

"No one told you to catch me," Sam teased.

"Yeah, whatever," Dean replied. Privately he thought, 'I'll always catch you when you fall, Sammy. That's my job.' He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and gave a tight squeeze. "Let's get this mess cleaned up."


	17. Mood Swings

**Chapter 16: Mood Swings**

Dean and Sam threw the last few shovels full of dirt onto the now buried bodies of the three trolls. Dean watched as Sam seemed to tire out quickly.

"Dude, what's wrong with you?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," Sam lied. Truth was his chest was on fire but he didn't want Dean to have to do this all by himself since he knew his shoulders hurt from catching him, and Dad's hands were a mess. So he had buttoned his drenched coat to hide the scratches and blood on his chest and got to work on digging the whole.

"Okay, that should do it," Dean announced. "Let's get back to the truck." Dean looked up at the thundering sky. "I hate rain." Sam nodded in agreement.

They started climbing up the side but now that the ground was wet the grass was slick. Sam stumbled and fell. Dean's arm shot out and grabbed Sam before he could roll down the hill.

"Okay, that's it. What the hell is wrong with you and don't tell me nothing!" Dean demanded. "Where are you hurt at?"

"The troll managed to claw my chest just before I shot her," Sam finally admitted.

Dean quickly unzipped Sam's jacket and saw the shredded shirt underneath along with the blood and torn skin.

"Shit Sammy, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because, we still had work to do."

"For being a college boy you're really stupid sometimes, ya know that!"

Sam figured he'd been spending too much time with Dean because for the life of him he couldn't stop the smart ass remark that came out of his mouth. "Awe, you care about me, you really do."

His words had the desired affect he was looking for. "Asshole," Dean griped and then all but hauled Sam up onto his feet and started dragging him back to the truck.

"Dean, I'm perfectly capable of walking," Sam protested and tried to pull his arm free of Dean's vice like grip. "Stop treating me like a baby!"

"I'll stop treating you like a baby when you stop acting like one," Dean replied.

Sam couldn't understand why in the hell Dean was so mad. It wasn't like he was going to ignore the claw marks but they still had a job to do. It wasn't like Dean had never dug a hole while injured.

"Damn it Dean, let go! You're over reacting to a few scratches."

Dean just kept pulling Sam along towards the truck where Dad was currently treating his own wounds.

John looked up in time to see Dean pulling Sam along. "What happened?" Sam had seemed fine when he had left him and Dean under the bridge.

"Sam got hurt but didn't feel like telling anyone," Dean blurted out angrily.

Sam was shoved until he was sitting in the bed of the pickup. Without warning John grabbed the fabric of his t-shirt and ripped it open revealing four long claw marks running across Sam's chest. Sam begrudgingly submitted to his father's poking and prodding.

"These aren't too deep," John finally said. "You're going to need some stitches though."

"We can deal with them when we get home," Sam said.

"I don't know," John replied. "Maybe we should check into a hotel and clean you up."

Sam shook his head no. "I want to go home. It's only a two hour drive. It can wait that long. It's just a couple of scratches."

Dean looked ready to protest but John spoke first. "All right, we'll head home. Dean, can you drive?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"Good, my hands are throbbing. Help me get Sam in the tuck."

"I can walk by myself," Sam protested. He scooted out of the back of the truck and managed to walk to the passenger door of the truck unaided. He went ahead and scooted to the middle since he knew he'd be told to sit there anyway.

"What's his problem?" John asked.

"He's just being Sam," Dean replied with a shrug. "Moody should be his middle name. Half the time I don't really know what's going through that thick head of his." Dean didn't even realize the anger and sarcasm dripping from his own voice as he spoke but John picked up on it loud and clear.

John smiled.

"What?" Dean asked.

"You may have inherited your mother's hair and coloring, but Sam got her mood swings. I swear that woman kept me on my toes."

"Yeah, well, for the record Sam inherited your stubbornness," Dean pointed out.

"I think you both inherited that," John replied. "Dean, what's wrong with you?"

"What?" Dean demanded.

"Your hands are clenched into fists and you look like you want to hit something…or someone."

"It's just…" but Dean didn't finish the thought. He didn't have heart to hearts with his father. Only Sam was able to get Dean to do chick flick moments. Then again this was about Sam wasn't it?

"Dean, talk to me," John ordered.

"I'm sick and tired of seeing him get hurt," Dean finally blurted out.

"Dean, from time to time we all get hurt. It's part of the job."

"No, it's different for Sam. You haven't been with us for the last year. You don't understand. Everything goes after Sam. The demon struck first. Then there was the shape shifter who took so much pleasure in tormenting him while wearing my face to do it. In Lawrence the poltergeist went after him twice, almost killing him. He had practically stopped breathing by the time I got to him and found him with a lamp cord wrapped around his neck. The Hook man managed to take a chunk out of him, oh, and there was that _lovely_ Dr. Ellicott you sent us after. Remember the asylum gig Dad? Well the good doc scrambled Sam's brains and then Sam shot me full of rock salt. Let's not forget Michigan. There we met this swell kid Max, who happened to lose his mom just like we did. Sam had to watch vision after vision as every member of that family get murdered. The Striga you sent us after managed to knock us both on our backs, but it chose to suck out Sam's lifeforce, not mine. If I had been unconscious for just another minute or two Sam would have been dead!"

"Dean," John tried to interrupt but Dean just kept on going.

"Hell, even the freak people we run into go after Sam. He was abducted by a family of cannibal rednecks who hunted people for the fun of it!"

"How did you get him back?" John asked.

Dean actually choked out a laugh. "He ended up saving me after my brilliant rescue failed."

"Son, I know things go after Sam first. They have ever since he was a child. At first I thought it was because he was a child, or at least the youngest. I figured the things we hunted were going after the most vulnerable of us and I'm sure to some extent that was true, but Sam is different, and that means he will always be in danger until the day comes when he learns how to use these gifts of his to protect him self better."

"Still, I keep letting him down," Dean protested. "It's my job to protect him and I suck at it!"

"No you don't."

John and Dean turned to see Sam standing by the truck listening to them. He had given up waiting for them and come to see what the hold up was.

"Dean, I thought we had talked about this already," Sam continued. "I'd have been dead many times over if not for you. You always put me first. I know that. I was pulled in the river and you jumped in after me risking your own life. It's not your fault that a troll scratched me across the chest and it's not your fault that I did something stupid and fell off a bridge."

"That wasn't a stupid move," Dean replied. "Hanging upside down and shooting that troll the way you did was a move Rambo would have been proud of."

"Maybe, but if you and Dad hadn't of caught me I probably would have broken my neck."

"Sammy, don't…"

"You don't!" Sam insisted. "Dean, I know you worry about me, but I'm okay. It's going to take more than a few scratches to bring down a Winchester."

Dean actually smiled at that comment. John could feel the tension slowly easing away from Dean. Once again he was reminded that the bond between his sons was probably too close for their own good. He seriously wondered if one would be able to function without the other. He prayed to a god he wasn't sure even existed that he never have to find out.

The storm that had been winding down suddenly let loose with a renewed strength. The trees bowed, the wind howled and thunder and lightning rolled across the pitch black sky.

"Come on, let's get home," John ordered. "We can get your brother taken care of once we get there."

0000000000000

A little over two hours later Dean pulled the truck into the driveway. The three tired hunters grabbed their stuff from the back of the truck and lugged their way into the house.

John looked at Sam and just now realized his brace was missing.

"Sam, where's your brace?"

Sam looked at his arm in confusion when he suddenly remembered. "I had to take it off. The troll was too fast and it was slowing me down."

"So you just left it there?" John asked.

"I didn't mean to. I forgot about it. I'll just be careful. I only needed it for one more week and since we won't be going on another hunt before Friday I should be fine."

John sighed, clearly not happy that the brace had been lost but there wasn't much he could do about it now. They sure as hell weren't going to drive back to get it and he couldn't take Sam to another doctor for another brace since that would start to draw attention to them.

"Fine, just be careful," John warned. "Sam I want you to take the first shower so we can then disinfect and bandage those wounds."

"Yes sir," Sam replied. He dropped his bag in his room and grabbed a relatively clean towel and went into the bathroom.

"You know, I probably…"

"You aren't taking your brace off, Dean," John said in no uncertain terms.

An hour later all three were showered and Dean was playing doctor. He had cleansed and bandaged his father's hands first since the task would be easier than the claw marks on Sam's chest.

John let out one more hiss as Dean tied the last piece of gauze in place. "Thanks."

Dean stood up and walked to Sam who was sitting on the other sofa just wearing sweatpants and socks. There had been no point in putting on a shirt until Dean finished with his ministrations.

"Okay Sam, get ready for disinfecting." Dean soaked a washcloth with alcohol and then pressed it down on Sam's chest.

Sam bit down on his lip to keep from crying out but his whole body arced from the fiery pain as the alcohol burned away any germs or bacteria. Dean lifted the cloth and Sam took a ragged breath.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"Peachy," Sam replied with a forced smile.

"Sammy, you've always been a crappy liar," Dean teased.

"Well, at least my lies are better than your pick up lines."

Dean applied clean gauze to Sam's cuts with a little more force than was called for.

"Ow! You did that on purpose."

"Little brother, what ever do you mean?" Dean asked sweetly.

Sam just glared at him figuring until Dean was done doctoring him it might be wise to avoid insults.

"I can fix three of these with butterfly bandages but this one needs stitches."

"It doesn't look that bad," Sam whined.

"Sammy, let your brother stitch that cut," John ordered. John never played around when it came to first aid. He had made a point of training both his boys in as much medical expertise as possible. "Dean, there is a bottle of Jack Daniels in the kitchen under the sink."

Both Sam and Dean looked at John for a moment. John knew what they were thinking.

"The bottle is brand new and was put there for medical emergencies. I haven't started drinking again." He looked to Dean, "Give Sam four shots and wait about twenty minutes. You can stitch him up then."

"Dad, four shots will knock Sam flat on his ass," Dean pointed out. Like he had said before, Sam couldn't handle his liquor to save his soul.

"That's the point."

Sam thought about turning down the whiskey but he really hated stitches. 'What the hell?' he figured. He might as well let the alcohol deaden the pain a little.

Dean retrieved the bottle from the kitchen and passed it to Sam.

"Bottoms up," Dean said as Sam took a large swallow. Sam instantly broke into a fit of coughs and hacks as the whiskey took his breath away and burned his throat.

"Pussy," Dean teased.

Sam tried to give the bottle back to Dean. "Nuh huh, you need to do that three more times."

"God, this stuff is awful," Sam complained.

"You won't think it's so bad in a few minutes when Dean starts stitching up those cuts," John pointed out. "Now drink up Sammy."

Sam took a deep breath, pinched his nose, lifted the bottle up, and started to chug. At first Dean and John watched in fascination as Sam chugged down the whiskey but then they both realized at the same time that Sam was chugging way too much.

"Whoa, there little brother," Dean said as he grabbed the bottle away causing some of the amber liquid to spill down Sam's face.

Sam panted and gagged and asked for a glass of water which John fetched for him.

"Now we just wait for it to kick in," John said.

"When will we know?" Sam asked.

"Trust me, we'll know," John laughed.

0000000000000

Thirty minutes later Sam was lying on his bed singing the song from Barney.

"_I love you, you love me  
we're a happy family  
with a great big hug and a kiss from me to you,  
won't you say you love me too!"_

"Dude, you have got to cut that out. There is no way in hell I can concentrate and stitch you up if you're singing that crappy song!"

"Awe, what's the matter Dean? Don't you like purple dinosaurs?"

"No, I don't, and for the record neither do you. Now shut up!"

"Okay Dean-o. Dean-o…Dean-o, Dean-o, Dean-o!" Sam giggled happily to himself.

"Jesus Sam, we have got to build up your tolerance to liquor. This is just embarrassing," Dean complained as he threaded his needle.

"Just leave him be and get the job done," John ordered from the kitchen where he was sitting at the table and watching Dean and Sam.

"Yes sir." Dean carefully began the process of pulling his brother's skin back together. It was a task he had done many time before but this was the first time Sam had ever been drunk while he did it and it unnerved him the way Sam was looking at him with his unguarded, open and trusting eyes.

"Dean?"

"What?" Dean asked offhandedly, all his attention focused on his stitching.

"Do you believe there is a heaven?" Sam asked, his drunkenness letting him ask a question that a sober Sam never would.

Dean stopped sewing and looked at Sam, clearly caught off guard by the innocent question.

"I don't know," Dean replied honestly. "Do you?"

Sam seemed to think for a minute. "Yeah." His voice took on an almost dreamy quality as he continued to speak. "We know there is a hell, right? So it makes sense there is a heaven. Do you think mom and Jess are in heaven?"

Dean didn't have a clue but he sure as hell wasn't going to say that to Sammy. His brother was vulnerable right now and Dean realized he could easily hurt Sam if he didn't choose his words wisely.

"Sure Sammy. I'm sure they're there and they're together watching us."

Sam smiled a goofy smile at Dean and closed his eyes for a moment. Dean resumed his stitching. Suddenly Sam opened his eyes and looked almost panicked. "Dean, you don't think mom will show Jess pictures of me naked do you?"

Dean couldn't stop the chuckle that came from that statement. "Sammy, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Baby pictures," Sam said, as if that explained everything. "Mother's always show naked baby pictures to people. That's what my friend at college said."

"I don't think they allow baby pictures in heaven," Dean teased but it seemed to calm Sam down enough to let Dean finish with his stitches. He picked up the scissors and snipped off the end of the thread and applied a clean bandage over his brother's chest.

"There, all done."

"Thanks Dean," Sam said sleepily.

"You're welcome little brother." Dean stood up and pulled the covers that had been pushed to the foot of the bed up and over Sam. Sam sighed peacefully and then closed his eyes. "Sweet dreams." Dean turned off the light and left the room.

John was waiting for Dean in the kitchen. There was a serious look on his face that didn't bode well in the pit of Dean's stomach.

"Dean, I think it's time for you and Sam to start doing some solo jobs. Sam needs to build up his confidence in his abilities, and you…well…you need some time away from your brother. Having Sam around is making you go soft."

Dean looked at his father as if the man had suddenly grown a second head. His reply to his father was short and to the point.

"No fucking way."

"This isn't up for debate. You two will be fully recovered in a few days and I think you two should split up this weekend and do different jobs."

"No."

"Damn it, I am in charge here. I think this would be best for Sam."

"How in the hell would you know what is best for Sam?" Dean demanded. "You barely even know Sam! I'm the one who has taken care of him since the time he was a baby! I'm the one who did all of the things that a father is supposed to do! There is no way you can send Sam out on solo jobs!"

"Sam is never going to be able to take care of himself if he knows that you will always be there. If he's alone he'll have to rely on himself and he'll probably even develop his abilities."

"Trial by fire!" Dean spat. "Were you even listening to me when I was telling you just a few hours ago how everything…EVERYTHING…goes after Sam? Every supernatural freak out there wants to be the one to kill him and take his powers. Sending Sam out on solo hunts would be like sending lambs to the slaughter!"

"You have that little faith in your brother's hunting skills?" John said, turning the argument against Dean.

"I never said that and you know it," Dean retaliated. "Do not turn this around on me. Sam is an awesome hunter and he has saved my life numerous times, but things seek him out. What happens when he's on a hunt and he gets hit with a vision? You've seen how badly those things drain him."

"Dean, a day may come when you won't be there to protect him. He has to know how to stand on his own."

"Sam stood on his own for four fucking years and did just fine. He was living a great life until I came back into it."

"He wasn't a hunter during those four years. He was actually living a very sheltered and protected life on campus with Jessica, but even there the demon managed to find him."

"Sammy and I are a team. We hunt as a team. End of discussion."

John was shocked by the tone of voice Dean had taken with him. "Why don't we ask Sam what he wants?"

"Do not put this on him," Dean demanded. "Sam will agree to it just to make you happy. I mean it Dad. Don't push me on this. Before I'll let you put Sam in danger for no fucking reason I'll pack up our shit and we'll leave."

"What did you say?"

"I mean it Dad. You're my father and I don't mean to disrespect you, but I won't let you toss Sam to the wolves just to see if he can hold his own."

"Did you ever think that this wasn't entirely about Sam? You worry too much about him during the hunt. If you can't maintain your focus you're going to get someone killed."

"Are you bullshitting me? Of course I worry about Sam during a hunt! You're the one who taught me to do that! My whole life growing up my instructions were to kill the big bad and watch out for Sammy. I've been doing that for twenty-two years and now you suddenly have a problem with it? I have news for you Dad I can't change now even if I wanted too."

"Listen, it's late and we're both tired. We'll talk about this more in the morning."

"No we won't. This discussion is over," Dean said. "Dad, please don't make me chose between you or Sammy." He didn't even have to tell his father that John wouldn't like the outcome. John could read Dean's face crystal clear. If he forced Dean to pick Sam would win.

"Fine, the discussion is over…for now."

Dean chose not to respond. Dad could think what he wanted but there was no way his father was going to split him and Sam up. If Sam one day chose to leave then so be it, but the decision to leave would be Sam's, not something his father forced upon him.

Dean went into his room and pushed the door shut quietly so as to not wake up his brother. Needless to say he was surprised when Sammy started to talk.

"Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

"Yeah Sammy." Dean sat on Sam's bed and pushed his hair from his eyes.

"Don't let Dad send me away?" His words were slurred as the alcohol still coursed through his system. In Sam's drunken state he could only imagine what the argument he'd just had with his father must have sounded like to Sammy.

"No one is sending you away," Dean replied.

"Dad doesn't want us to be together anymore."

"That's not true," Dean comforted. "Sammy, your head is a little fuzzy right now. No one is going to send you away and no one is splitting us up." Dean hoped that come morning Sam wouldn't even remember the argument or this conversation.

"Promise?" Sam asked.

"I swear on my life," Dean told him. "You and I will always be together."

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter took so long in coming. I hated it when I first wrote it and then rewrote it two more times trying to get it to sound just right and keep the family members in character. Even though this is now venturing into AU territory I like to keep it as real to cannon as possible and have the personalities stay true.

I know I had Dean do a lot of back talking to his father in this chapter but after seeing Dean stand up to his father several times in Dead Man's Blood, Salvation and Devil's Trap, I think I kept him in character, and if there is one thing that Dean would fight his father over tooth and nail I think it's safe to say it would be over putting Sam in danger.


	18. Personal Demons

**Chapter 17: Personal Demons**

**A/N:** I was absolutely shocked by the positive reaction to the last chapter. Thanks again for the reviews and your positive feedback. I am sorry for the long wait but I have been unable to uplaod on FF for almost a week now. Very weird.

00000000000000

Dean woke up to the sun shining on his face. He rolled over to ignore it hoping to get a little more sleep but then the need to go to the bathroom made it clear that he wouldn't be getting any more rest today. He sat up groggily and stretched out the kinks in his back. He saw Sam still asleep in his bed. Dean stood up and took a moment to look Sam over. Sam seemed fine so Dean went on to the bathroom and followed it up with brushing his teeth.

He stepped into the kitchen and flipped on the coffee pot. Then Dean went to the living room to turn on the TV and catch a little news but stopped dead when he entered the room. His father was passed out on the sofa and the bottle of Jack Daniels which had been for medical emergencies only now lay empty on the floor.

"Shit," Dean grumbled to himself. Dad had been sober for weeks. What in the hell would have caused the man to suddenly grab a bottle and get wasted? Dean sighed as he realized he knew exactly why his Dad was wasted. Dean had told the man off the night before in no uncertain terms. Hell, he had even threatened to take Sam and leave him. No matter how much Dean might want to, he couldn't feel sorry for the things he had said last night. He would protect Sam, even if it meant protecting him from their father.

Speaking of Sam, his baby brother could not wake up and see this. Dean grabbed the bottle and took it to the kitchen where he buried it at the bottom of the garbage can. Then he hurried back to the living room and shook his father.

"Dad, wake up!"

"Huh? Dean?"

"Yeah, Dad, let's get you in to bed. I do not want Sam to see you like this."

"Leave me be. So what if Sam sees me? It's time that boy grow up. He needs to face some cold hard facts."

Dean shook his head in disgust.

"Cold hard facts," Dean seethed. "Cold hard facts are all Sam knows. Now get up." Dean pulled at his father's shoulders and got the man into a sitting position. "Come on, just a bit more."

John stood up and stumbled a bit as Dean led him to his room. "I'm your father."

"Yeah Dad."

"I'm in charge around here."

"Sure Dad, keep walking." Dean pulled his father to his room and dropped him rather unceremoniously onto his bed.

"You and Sam need to show me more respect. Ungrateful…both of you."

Dean suddenly couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed his father by his shirt. "Stop it. Sam and I both love you. We are both grateful for the fact that you kept us alive all these years and that you prepared us for what's out there, but sometimes, just sometimes, we needed a father too, not just a drill sergeant. What the hell are you doing Dad? You were the one who came to us a few weeks ago wanting things to change. You wanted us back in your life and we're here, but if you become a drunk again you won't have to worry about me taking Sammy away because he'll leave all by himself. Nothing personal but you're an asshole when you're drunk and he won't put up with it anymore."

"And I just bet if he left you'd go with him wouldn't you?" John demanded.

"Sam is my responsibility," Dean said by way of an answer. "Dad, we've been happy the past few weeks, even you. Damn it do you really want to lose all of this again? Do you really want to push Sam and me out of your life once more?"

John just glared at Dean but didn't reply.

"I have worshiped you my entire life. You were perfect to me in every way, but you walked out on me and it opened my eyes just enough to see that you aren't perfect. Right now I don't see my father the hero. I see a man who is too weak to deal with reality so he crawled inside of a bottle instead. Shit Dad, one fight! That was all it took for you to fall of the wagon? One damn fight? What the hell?"

Dean's words must have hit their mark because suddenly John looked away in shame. He had never wanted his sons to see him look weak and yet here he was and for the first time in Dean's life he realized just how pathetic John really was.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"Me too, Dad. Now please, get some rest, sober up, and don't do this again."

John rolled over and soon was in a deep sleep. Dean stepped out of his father's room and shut the door. Then he quickly opened the door and clicked the lock into place on the inside and shut it again. He didn't want Sam to enter the room before Dad was past his hang over. Dean grabbed the keys to the truck but realized the truck would make too much noise and wake Sam instantly. He grabbed Dad's wallet, fished out several bills and put on his coat and shoes.

In less than ten minutes Dean had walked to and from the corner store where he had purchased a replacement bottle of Jack Daniels. He poured some out into the sink so it looked like it did after Sam had some and put the bottle back under the sink.

God, it had been years since Dean had had to hide Dad's drinking from Sammy yet he fell into the old routine like clockwork. He went back into his bedroom and was glad to see that Sammy was still sleeping. He had rolled over since Dean last saw him but he was still deeply asleep.

He hoped both Sam and his father would sleep for at least another hour or two. By then both would be over the worst of their hangovers.

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Dean was in the kitchen cooking breakfast when Sam emerged from the room an hour and half later.

"Well good morning sunshine," Dean mocked.

"Huh," Sam groaned.

Dean just smiled and set two aspirin on the table with a glass of water for Sam. Sam had a seat and downed the pills.

"How's you head?" Dean asked as he went back to work on the scrambled eggs.

"It's not that bad, really. I feel a little dizzy but otherwise okay."

"That's good."

Dean set up two plates with eggs, toast, and sausage patties. He put the plates on the table and then poured two cups of coffee.

"Thanks," Sam said. "I don't know if I can eat this though."

"I know it probably doesn't look appetizing but trust me, you'll feel better if you do."

Sam picked up his fork and took several bites to please Dean.

"Where's Dad?"

"He's still sleeping," Dean replied. "I heard him shuffling around pretty late last night. I think he was wound up from the hunt and had a hard time relaxing so he could fall asleep." He watched to see if Sam would buy his bullshit story.

Sam looked at Dean for a moment. He seemed to have a memory of something from last night but he couldn't pull it forward.

"Did something happen last night?" Sam asked.

"What do you mean?" Dean said, playing dumb.

"I…I'm not sure. I think Dad was mad. Did I do something last night…say something bad while I was drunk?"

"Nope," Dean said. "You sang a horrible rendition of the Barney song and nearly freaked out over naked baby pictures, but no, you didn't piss Dad off. Sounds like you were having some freaky alcohol induced dreams last night."

"Yeah, maybe." Sam had the feeling Dean was keeping something from him but he didn't know what that could be.

"Eat up," Dean ordered. "After breakfast I need to change those bandages."

"Dean, are you sure something didn't happen last night. I just…I have this feeling."

"Dude, nothing happened. I don't know what you dreamed or imagined but other than you asking me if I believed in heaven and whether or not mom and Jessica were up there together, nothing happened."

"I said that?" Sam gasped.

"Oh yeah. You were convinced that mom was showing Jessica naked baby pictures of you."

Sam laughed. "No way."

"Dude, way," Dean laughed. "I said it last night but I'll say it again since this time you are sober enough to actually comprehend the words. We need to build up your tolerance to alcohol because your behavior last night was embarrassing."

"His behavior wasn't that bad," came a deep voice from the living room doorway. John was standing there leaning against the door casing.

"Good morning," Sam greeted.

"Morning, Dad," Dean also greeted, though his greeting wasn't necessarily as chipper as Sam's.

"So I wasn't as bad as Dean is making me out to be?" Sam asked.

"Oh no, you were that bad, but I've seen other men act a hell of a lot worse," John replied.

Dean had to give Dad credit. He knew his father had a hang over but he was managing to completely mask it from Sammy. Dean watched as his father walked to the bathroom and shut the door.

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John made it to the bathroom and dropped down on to the toilet and rested his head in his hands. Damn he felt like crap but it was obvious from the way Sammy spoke to him just now he knew nothing of his father's lapse and Dean clearly didn't want Sammy to know. John stood up, popped three aspirins, brushed his teeth for a full five minutes and then took an extra long shower.

By the time he stepped out of the tub he actually felt half way decent. Back at the mirror he saw how blood shot his eyes were and quickly grabbed the eye drops and put several in.

By the time he stepped back into the kitchen no one would have suspected anything were wrong with him. He smiled as he saw Dean set a plate of breakfast and coffee in front of him.

"Where's Sam?"

"Getting dressed."

"Dean, thank you."

"You really want to thank me, don't put me in that position again."

"Does Sam know?"

"No."

Dean put the dirty dishes in the sink and went to sit on the front steps. He was afraid that he might not be able to keep his temper in check and he didn't want Sam to suspect that something was wrong. It surprised him just how angry he was with his father. He had waited five years to have his family be whole again and the thought that his Dad might screw the whole thing up infuriated him.

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Sam came out of his bedroom and saw his father eating breakfast. He had a seat at the table.

"Dean said you were up late last night. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine, Sammy. I just needed some time to relax before going to bed. How are you feeling this morning?"

"A little sore but I'm good really."

"Good."

"What about you? How are your hands?"

"They're okay. They should be fine for me to go to work tomorrow. Um, Sam, so…how did you like Stanford?"

"Huh?"

"School, I mean, did you like it there?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, shocked that his father was asking him about this. "The campus was beautiful and what's not to love about California?"

"Well I would think the earthquakes would put a damper on things," John smirked.

"The first couple freaked me out I'll admit," Sam laughed. "I would have thought that there wouldn't be too many things that could spook me after all the things we faced but when the ground begins to move and things fall down it is a little unnerving."

"So what were your favorite classes?"

Neither of them noticed as Dean came back into the house and had a seat in the living room. He pretended to be reading a magazine but he was listening very carefully to their conversation.

"Just about all of them," Sam answered. "Seriously. Obviously I was partial to the pre-law ones, but I also liked the history and literature ones. I took two Latin classes which I totally aced."

"That's not surprising since you've known Latin from the age of ten," John commented.

"I also really liked my anthropology and psychology courses. Ancient religions and civilizations were fascinating too."

"Don't take this the wrong way," John said, "but with the exception of you law classes it sounded like the classes you enjoyed the most were the ones that would help you hunt."

"What?"

"Research Sam. It sounds like you spent four years researching stuff that is supernatural."

"No," Sam replied. "You have to take that stuff to meet your liberal arts requirements."

"Really, those exact classes, ancient religions and civilizations, history and literature, anthropology and psychology, Latin…"

"The Latin was for my law classes," Sam defended, but he was seeing a pattern in what his father said.

"Just out of curiosity, how did you do in parapsychology?" John asked.

"How did you know?" Sam asked. He hadn't even told Dean that he'd taken a course in that.

"I didn't, I took a wild guess. Sam, you knew didn't you? You knew that at some point this would be your life again."

Sam sighed. "Not really. Some of the classes I took just because they sounded interesting and some of them I took just to confirm to myself that we weren't crazy. The parapsychology class that I took was more to see what other people thought about this sort of thing. I was actually a bit surprised to see how many people are actually open minded about this stuff, but then most of them are also full of crap claiming to see or hear things that aren't real."

"When did the visions start?" John asked.

"About six months before Jess died. At first they were no big deal. I would dream of a conversation with someone and then a few days or maybe a week later it would come true. I didn't think anything of it. Then one night I had a nightmare of a girl on campus being murdered. I really believed it was just a nightmare. A week later I saw her face in the newspaper. She had been murdered by her boyfriend."

"Why didn't you try calling me or Dean to tell us what was going on?" John asked.

"Dad, you made it pretty clear that I wasn't welcome anymore. I didn't think you would even speak to me. Besides, I didn't want to believe I had a problem. I chalked it all up to being some freak incident. Then the dreams about Jess started. I had them for weeks and I made a point of keeping an eye on her, watching out for some sign of danger, but nothing happened and I figured I was just being paranoid. But when she died, I knew the truth."

"Sammy, the day you left I said a lot of things out of anger. I was just so damn scared I wouldn't be able to protect you. If I could have that day back I would do a lot of things differently."

"Let me guess, you would have tied me to the bed," Sam joked.

"No, I would give you my blessing and wish you luck. I would tell you to call us at least once a week and let us know how you were doing. I would tell you that I'm proud of you."

"That would have been nice," Sam admitted. "But it's a little late now." He tried to keep his voice flat, not letting any resentment creep through.

"A day late and a dollar short," John agreed. "It's the story of my life. I am sorry, Sam. I know you don't believe this but I never wanted to hurt you or push you away. I just wanted to keep my family together."

"I know Dad. After this past year, well, let's just say, I get it now. I mean, there are a few things I still don't get, but the way you raised us, I understand that."

"What is it that you still don't get?" John enquired.

"I don't understand why you wouldn't talk to us for a year."

"I had my reasons," John said.

"Yeah, but you never really explained them to us," Sam replied.

"I knew Dean and I were being hunted. At the time I really thought the thing was after me and that if I left Dean then he would be safe."

"But you were wrong," Sam said.

"I was wrong. The thing was never after me. It was after you. The only reason Meg set a trap for me was because I was getting too close and it knew I would try to stop whatever they were planning to do to you."

"What I don't understand is why it didn't just take me. Dean and I split up once after a fight. That was how I met Meg. I didn't suspect a thing. It would have been so easy to grab me. Even in Chicago there were plenty of times when I was alone and they could have grabbed me with you guys none the wiser. If this demon wants me so damn badly why hasn't it just taken me yet? I don't get this game they are playing."

"Neither do I," John admitted.

As Dean listened to the conversation he was glad to see his Dad making an effort to get to know Sammy better. He was also glad that he father didn't mention anything about solo jobs. Dean was starting to believe that he father realized Dean had been right and hopefully everything would be okay now. Hopefully his father saw how important it was that they stay together.


	19. Devil's Protection

**Chapter 18: Devil's Protection**

It was late Tuesday afternoon and Sam was busy working on the mojo pouches once more. He had already sewed the bags and attached them to black cord necklaces. Now he was attaching small mirrors to both sides of the bags so that no matter how they were hanging the wearer would have a mirror showing at all times. He just hoped the info he had researched was true and that the herbs and plants that now filled the pouches and the mirrors would really act to repel a demon. It would be a great help in fighting the thing if they knew they were each safe from possession.

He looked over at Dean who was busy cleaning every single weapon once more. All the guns and knives were laid out in neat rows and Dean had his cleaning kit out.

Sam finished the pouches and set them on the coffee table.

"All done?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. I just hope they do what they're supposed to."

"I'm sure they will," Dean said. "Your research is hardly ever wrong."

Sam picked up the Key of Solomon that Bobby had shipped them. He took his time studying every single page making sure he missed nothing. It seemed that the best weapons at their disposal in the book were still the demon trapping circle and the devil's trap to keep evil out.

"I wonder," Sam spoke aloud.

"What?" Dean questioned as he sharpened his knife.

"The devil's trap keeps evil out of something. They couldn't open the trunk of the car. I wonder what would happen if we drew the symbol on ourselves. It might provide one more layer of protection against these things trying to possess one of us."

"It makes sense. I say we do it."

Sam smiled at Dean's quick acceptance of his idea.

Both looked up when John walked in from work. He looked hot and tired.

"Hey boys."

"Hey Dad."

John had a seat and Sam fetched him a cold soda from the fridge.

"Thanks. Are those the pouches?"

"Yeah, I finally finished them," Sam replied.

John picked one of them up and studied it closely. "Looks good."

"Sam had another brilliant idea," Dean said. "There is a symbol called a devil's trap. If you put it on something it prevents demons and evil spirits from being able to open it. Sam suggested we draw the symbol on ourselves preventing the demon from being able to open us up to it so nobody gets possessed."

John looked at Sam. "Sam, that's ingenious."

"Thanks Dad."

"What's for dinner? I'm starving?"

"I made lasagna with garlic toast," Sam replied. He walked to the kitchen, put a large piece of the pasta onto a plate and heated it in the microwave. Once the timer went off he tossed on two pieces of the garlic toast and carried the plate to his father. He was just handing the plate over when suddenly the pain ripped through his head. The plate crashed to the floor and the food splattered as Sam fell to his knees.

Strong arms grabbed at him and he heard his name being called but the vision was already pulling him away from them.

_Dean and Dad were pinned to the wall. Dean struggled to get free as Dad cried out in pain. Sam slowly walked up to his father and brother, only it was clear by the yellow fire present in Sam's eyes that something was terribly wrong._

"_You two have been a thorn in my side long enough," evil Sam spoke. "This ends tonight."_

_Suddenly two black swirling masses came into view. Dean and John's faces were surrounded by the demons who were about to possess their bodies. The masses seemed to poke and prod but couldn't possess the two trapped men. Finally they retreated and Sam stepped forward._

"_Let me guess," Sam sneered and then ripped Dean's shirt open with his bare hands. "So, you finally took my advice on something," Sam mocked. "No matter. A little water will wash those symbols right off your bodies."_

"_Sammy, you have to fight this," Dean said._

"_Your precious Sammy is in no position to do anything. I am in control now. He was too afraid to use his powers. He was terrified he might accidentally hurt you. Did you know that? Well, now it's too late. Sam might as well be dead. His body and his powers are mine." Sam took several more steps up to Dean and then punched him hard across the face."_

_John started repeating the incantation that Sam himself had found to try and stop the demon. Dean joined in and soon both of them were saying it._

_Dean cried out in pain as Sam waved his hand and slashed Dean across the face. John never stopped his chanting._

_Sam then made a slash appear across John's chest. John groaned but continued as Dean once more started the chanting._

"_Stop it," evil Sam shouted. "Stop it or I'll kill you both!" He raised his hand to inflict more damage but Sam's body faltered as the incantation began to work._

_John was suddenly free of the wall and he pulled out the Colt and pointed it at Sammy._

"_Dad, no," Dean begged. "No! Please, not Sammy!"_

"_Sammy," John whispered as he raised the gun higher. Sam never got to see whether or not his father pulled the trigger as everything went black and the vision faded from view._

"Sammy!" John shouted.

"Dad, stop shouting," Dean said. His attention went back to his brother as Sam began to groan. "Sammy, that's it. Slow and easy breaths," Dean spoke gently.

Sam opened his eyes and saw he was lying flat on the floor with his head in Dean's lap. Dean had a hand resting on Sam's forehead. Sam looked over and saw his father also kneeling down next to Sam holding his hand.

"Sammy, what did you see?"

"Dad, give him a minute," Dean said.

John ignored Dean. "Was it the demon again? Is he still at the cabin? What happened?"

"Dad!" Dean warned. "Can you get him a glass of water?"

For a second John looked like he was about to yell at Dean but he clamped his mouth shut and went to the kitchen to get the glass of water.

Sam was grateful for Dean's intervention. His head was splitting and at the moment he was struggling to just stay conscious. The vision had been with out a doubt one of the most terrifying, most horrifying things he had ever witnessed.

Dean pulled Sam into a sitting position and then helped his little brother to his feet. Sam swayed and for a moment his knees threatened to buckle once more but Dean's strong hands held him upright. He guided Sam to the sofa and they both sat down. John handed Sam the glass of water and Sam gladly gulped down half the glass before he felt ready to talk.

"The visions seem worse," Dean pointed out.

"They are," Sam agreed. "Ever since meeting up with the demon six weeks ago when they come they're more painful than ever."

John's impatience couldn't be contained any longer. "What did you see?"

"I saw us, only I wasn't me."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked.

"I…I was possessed. The demon…it was in me. I had you and Dad up against a wall. There were two more demons but they were just the black mists. They were trying to possess you and Dad but they couldn't. You two had put devil's traps on your chests."

"What happened then?" John asked.

"I said that I was going to wash them off. I couldn't stop what was happening. It had total control and…it…it knew how to use my powers. You two started saying the incantation I found and it made the demon weaker. Dad, you were able to get off the wall. Then…" Sam stopped talking though. He didn't want to tell his father or Dean what was going to happen next. "I was right. This thing, it does want me, or at least, it wants to use me, make me evil."

"Sam, I'm not going to let that happen," Dean insisted.

Sam was almost panicked. "How are you going to stop it? It was a vision. They don't lie."

"No, but we know for experience that we can stop them, change things. We will stop this!" Dean told him. "I swear Sam, this thing is NOT going to get you."

"Everyone dies or gets hurt because of me! I'm going to get you and Dad killed. I…I need to leave. I need to get far away from both of you."

"If you do that you'll just make it that much easier for the demon to get you," John finally spoke. "And even if you leave us now that doesn't mean that the demon will leave us alone once you are possessed."

"Then what do we do?" Sam gasped. "I don't want to hurt you. I'd rather die than let that thing use me to hurt you."

"Don't you talk like that," Dean spat. "I mean it, Sammy. We'll find a way."

"Dad, listen, if this vision ever happens, I want you to know, I won't blame you if you use the Colt on me. You have my blessing to do what ever you have to do to save yourself and Dean."

"Sammy, Dad isn't going to shoot you," Dean gasped. He looked to his father hoping the man would support Dean in this decision but John just looked away. Dean chose to ignore him. He turned to Sam once more. "Sam, we will find a way to stop this vision from happening. I won't let that motherfucker possess you. I swear it! _And_ I'll never let Dad shoot you."

Sam shook his head back and forth. "Dean…" he started but John interrupted him.

"Actually, I already know what we need to do, how we are going to stop this" John said. "What does this devil's trap look like?"

"It's in the book," Sam whispered. His head hung down already feeling defeated.

Dean walked across the room and grabbed the book. He flipped through the pages until he got to the symbol that he remembered. John took a moment to look at it.

"Sam, can you walk?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"Good, we need to go, right now!"

Sam and Dean shared a look but quickly followed their father out the door and to the truck. John drove them to the downtown area. He went up and down several streets looking for something.

After twenty minutes of driving he finally parked the car. Everyone got out of the truck and Sam and Dean suddenly knew what their father was thinking. They were standing in front of a tattoo parlor.

"Tattoos?" Dean asked.

"Yes, for all of us. Sam, where did Dean and I have this symbol in your vision?"

"It was on your chests."

"Then that's were we will have the tattoos put. This way the symbol can protect us and there is no way to wash it off."

"Okay," Dean said. "Let's do it." At the moment the way he was feeling he'd put the damn thing on his forehead if it meant keeping Sam safe from the demon.

Sam nodded his head in agreement. He never thought he would ever have a tattoo, but if doing this meant he wouldn't be forced to hurt his family later on then so be it.

Inside John used one of his bogus credit cards to pay for all three tattoos. The tattoo artist kept trying to talk them into getting something different or a little more flamboyant. He stopped when John put on his scary face and demanded that all three be a perfect match to the illustration in the book.

John got his tattoo first in black ink and it was about three inches in diameter. Sam went next. He didn't want to wait one more second. His only thought was that he had to protect his family from him. Usually when he had a vision there wasn't much time to spare before it actually happened. The demons could be looking for him right now.

Getting the tattoo hurt but the pain was worth it. This idea of his father's might just be the thing that would save Sam from his so call destiny or fate or what ever the hell one was to call it.

Dean sat next to Sam and watched as the artist did his work. Sam waited for Dean to crack some smart-ass comment or call him a name but his brother never said a word. If anything Dean actually seemed to be on full alert, every few seconds he would scan the room for anything unusual. Sam glanced at his father and saw that he was doing the same thing. He realized that they were actually guarding over him, making sure that nothing tried to possess him before the tattoo was complete. It took about forty minutes start to finish and Sam breathed a sigh of relief when it was done.

Dean sat down in the chair last and didn't even flinch when the needle touched his skin. Sam made a point of watching out for Dean they way he had for him. Luckily the whole thing was incident free. After two and a half hours they were able to get in the truck and go home.

Back in the living room Sam used some paper towel to clean up the lasagna that now lay ruined in the floor. John cut off a fresh piece from the pan on the stove, nuked it in the microwave, and sat at the table to eat.

"Dad, thank you," Sam said.

"There's no need to thank me," John said. "I'm willing to do what ever I have to do to keep you boys safe. Sammy, in your vision, did you have a location?"

"No. We were in a room, but where it was I have no idea."

"How old did you look in the dream? I mean, was you hair longer or shorter? Was mine grayer? Do you have any idea when this thing is coming for us?"

"You mean when is it coming for me?" Sam asked.

"Sammy, Dean's right you know? This isn't your fault. Besides, we took measures now to prevent the demon from using you. Your vision can't come true, but that doesn't mean the demons won't still come."

"In my vision we looked the way we do now, but that still doesn't help. The vision could be a warning for tomorrow or a year from now. I just don't know."

"Maybe we should pack up and leave," Dean suggested. "I mean, nothing has bothered us here so far but we haven't exactly been in hiding while we were here. It's possible they know where we are at?"

"No," John said. "We are safe in the house. There are symbols and protections all over the place. They can't get in here. I even have symbols on the truck. Now we have the tattoos. Even if they know we are here we should be safe for a while longer. I just don't want to run out of here blindly and maybe walk right in to a trap. We've now been trapped by them twice, I'll not let there be a third time."

"We make a stand," Sam said.

"Exactly," John replied.


	20. For He's a Jolly Good Fellow

**Chapter 19: For He's a Jolly Good Fellow**

**A/N:** Okay, this chapter is pure fluff, but when you consider all the bad stuff that happens to our gorgeous hunks I think they need a little bit of happy, happy, joy, joy, too! Plus, Dean needed a little closure regarding his wheels.

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Sam pushed the book cart ahead of him and put the books back on the shelf where they belonged. It had been nine weeks since the night of his last vision, the night he and his family got their tattoos. In all that time they hadn't been bothered in the slightest by the demon or his followers.

For the past seven weeks Sam had been working here at the library. He loved this job. He didn't make as much money as his father or Dean did working full time at the garage, but still, the job paid well at $9 an hour and thirty hours a week. It wasn't exactly full time but that was actually a good thing since it let him get home before his family. He'd have an hour to make something for dinner before they arrived.

It was dumb luck he had gotten the job. He had returned to the library to collect the two books he had requested a week earlier and Ms. Alice was just putting out a help wanted sign. As soon as he told her about Stanford and the two semesters he spent working in the college library to help pay for his dorm room she hired him.

He liked working for Alice. She was a nice woman. Sometimes she tried to mother him a bit too much but for the most part he loved his job. It was quiet and peaceful and safe. Plus, he had plenty of time to browse at the books and even time to read a few during the day when the library was quiet.

Dean had been relentless in his teasing. Psychic boy had been retired and Geek boy had once again become his usually nickname with Dean. Dean had been working too and even though he pretended to hate having a day job Sam knew Dean secretly loved his job at the garage with Dad. He had been working there for eight weeks now making the same pay as Dad. After his work hours were done for the day Chuck had been nice enough to let Dean work in the back and finish building his new car. A lot of the time Sam would even go to the garage with them after dinner was over to help them out.

Heck, they would even spend time on the weekends working on the car since they had only gone on four hunts since the trolls. Every night when the day was over Dad would look through the papers and Sam and Dean would search the web looking for jobs but everything they found was too far away to be taken care of in a weekend so it had to wait.

Personally, Sam didn't mind if weekends came and went and they just stayed home. Actually, he loved it. He also noticed that Dean was changing. He no longer seemed to need to be on the go. Sam was almost afraid to say it but his brother was actually settling into living a normal life with a job and a house. Since Dean had gotten this new car it was like he didn't even have time to think about spooks or demons.

Dean had found a 1966 Pontiac GTO hardtop at the junkyard and had used his first two paychecks to by it. Now he and Dad had been working to restore it for a little over a month. Every day when Dean would come home he would talk Sam's ear off about how they had just installed the new seats or put in such and such component.

Just yesterday they got the engine working and Dean had taken it out for a two-hour test drive. Now all the car needed was some bonding on the body and a new paint job. Dean was short on cash to pay for the bodywork but Sam was going to surprise him tonight. It was Dean's birthday and Sam was going all out for his brother.

For the past five weeks Sam had been putting the bulk of his pay aside. He had been taking out just enough to help with groceries and buy a few necessities. He now had $600 to give to Dean for the car.

Originally the money wasn't planned for the body work, it was just going to be an awesome surprise for Dean's birthday. His brother had never really had a real birthday before. Sure, Sam had always made a point of giving Dean some token present every year and would surprise him with a Hostess cupcake, but this year would be different.

At first he struggled to figure out what to get him but then he just knew that the best present he could give his brother would be the cash necessary to finish his new baby. Plus, he figured since he would spend as much time as Dean in the car once it was finished he should help pitch in.

Sam looked down at his watch. It was time to go home. He would walk past the bank first and cash his paycheck. Then he needed to walk across the street and buy a big chocolate cake and a pack of candles. He had purchased the card yesterday. He couldn't wait to surprise Dean tonight. He even had balloons to blow up and a banner that said 'Happy Birthday'.

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Dean worked patiently on the VW Passat. He couldn't figure out why anyone would want a car like this. It had no character, no class, and no soul. Heck, even a PT Cruiser was better than this, but only by a bit. Maybe his beloved Impala was gone, but his GTO was slowly but surely easing his heartache over losing his baby.

Sure, she wasn't much to look at right now but once her bodywork was done she would be a thing of beauty. It felt so good last night to get in _his_ car and drive. She had been rebuilt to perfection. Every dollar he had made in the past two months had been put into her and her engine purred like a kitten. Her chrome was so shiny that it was like she was covered in mirrors. He had spent hours buffing out every square inch of it.

He only had another hour on the clock and then he and Dad would go home for dinner and come back.

He didn't know what he liked better, working on his car, or working with his Dad on his car. The past two months had really been a good bonding opportunity for them. Dean suspected Dad was working hard to make up for his little lapse in drinking. At least the man hadn't had a drop to drink since.

The only thing that could make the situation even better was if Sammy had worked at the garage too. Dean had tried to convince his baby bro to work there but geek boy had found a job at the library. Personally Dean thought he was nuts for working there. First off it was boring as all shit, and second, he made less money than Dean and Dad, and he had to pay taxes so he lost even more money. Still, Sam was happy there and at least he made a point of coming with them in the evening and spending time with them as they continued to work on the vintage car.

Dean had visited him once during his lunch hour to surprise Sammy with some monster cheeseburgers. He found his brother happily shelving books and fixing bookbindings. At least the lady he worked for was nice. He noticed that Alice made a point of bringing Sammy muffins and treats to help 'fatten' him up as she said. She had all but adopted Sammy. Any person who was nice to his little brother was okay in Dean's book. Still, Dean did miss Sam sometimes. He was used to being with him 24/7. At first it had been nice to have a bit of a break, but that soon passed and Dean would find himself pulling out his cell phone just to check in and see how Sam was doing.

His biggest worry was that Sam would have a vision and be all alone at the library. Dean had even made a point of telling Alice that Sam sometimes had epileptic episodes and that if he passed out or got dizzy not to call an ambulance but to call him instead. Luckily since the tattoos there hadn't been any visions of any kind. Sam was even sleeping better. They were all healthy and even happy.

He looked over and saw his dad working on a Stratus. It needed a new master cylinder for the brakes. Dean hated bleeding brake lines. It was a major pain in the ass. He was glad Dad was doing the bulk of the work on that job but he knew his help would be needed soon since that was a two man job. Oh well, he still liked his job better than Sammy's.

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Sam taped the last balloon to the wall. He had made a point of getting blue and silver thinking they would be manly enough for Dean even though he had been sorely tempted to get pink and yellow just to get a rise out of him. The birthday banner was hanging in the kitchen along the window and large chocolate cake decorated with a picture of a GTO sat center stage on the kitchen table. Sam didn't want to mess up the picture he had custom ordered with twenty-seven candles so he bought the candles shaped like numbers. A polka dotted number two and a number seven stood side by side on the edge of the cake. Sam had even gone one step further and gotten Dean his favorite dinner from Kerby's Coney Island just down the street. There were two cheeseburgers, chili cheese French fries, and beer battered onion rings for all of them.

He glanced at his watch and saw that Dean and Dad were due home in just five minutes. He was surprised to find his stomach was full of butterflies. He had never done anything like this for a member of his family and he wasn't exactly sure how Dean would react to a surprise birthday party, even if it was just the three of them.

He made a quick trip though the house one more time tidying up and making sure the place was spotless before they got there. Sam had to admit that this really was one of the better places they had lived in. Not to mention, since they had now lived there for over three months they had acquired even more stuff and the place really looked like a home instead of just a temporary shelter.

Finally Sam heard his family pull into the driveway. He quickly grabbed the lighter and lit the candles on the cake and hid in the kitchen waiting for them to come in.

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Dean parked the truck and he and his father climbed out. They went up the stairs, gabbed the junk mail on the way and then opened the door. Dean instantly smelled something good.

"All right, Sammy. You got us Kerb…" he stopped talking when he entered the kitchen with his father right behind him and saw the room decorated to celebrate a birthday. For a moment he was confused.

"Happy birthday, Dean," Sam said somewhat nervously. He was concerned by the confused look on his brother's face.

Honestly, Dean had forgotten it was his birthday. He used to pay attention to the date back before Sam went to college, but after he left and it was just him and Dad birthdays became nonexistent.

"Sammy, what is this?" Dean asked.

"I believe it's called a birthday party," Sam smirked.

"You did all this for me?"

"No, I did it for the homeless guy who sleeps behind the library. Duh, of course I did this for you. I got you your favorite dinner from Kerby's and then I got you a cake. Chocolate, chocolate, your favorite. Plus, look at the design."

Dean looked at the cake and saw a red GTO hardtop. He had mentioned to Sam that he was thinking about having his new car painted red.

"Sam, thanks. I don't know what to say," Dean said as he looked at the cake and the balloons.

"You don't have to say anything," Sam replied with a smile. It wasn't too often that Dean Winchester was speechless.

"Well, we better eat up," Dad announced. "After you have your cake we still need to get back and finish up the muffler on your car."

Sam sighed. He had hoped they would spend the evening together, maybe even go out somewhere but as usual Dad was a killjoy. Still, Sam could see by the look on Dean's face that he had made his big brother happy.

Dinner was eaten pretty quickly as everyone was anxious to dig into the cake. Dean absolutely refused to let Sam sing Happy Birthday reminding him that he had heard plenty of singing from Sam the night he was drunk. But Dean did make a wish and blow out his candles. Even Dad seemed to get in the mood as he cut himself a second piece of cake.

"It seems a shame to cut up such a beautiful car," Dean laughed.

"Yeah, but it won't be long before you'll have the real thing," Sam said.

Dean sighed. "It's going to take me weeks before I can afford to get her painted."

Sam didn't say a word. He just finished his cake and then started collecting the dirty dishes to put in the sink.

"Well we should get going," Dad finally said once everyone had eaten and the mess was cleaned up. "There won't be too much daylight left."

"Wait, I have one more thing," Sam said. He opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a blue envelope.

"What's this?" Dean asked.

"Open it and find out," Sam grinned.

Dean rolled his eyes but tore the envelope open. He pulled out a card that said 'Happy Birthday Brother' on it. Dean opened it to read the inside but he didn't get the chance. Six one hundred dollar bills fell out of the card.

"Sammy, what did you do? Rob a bank?"

"No you idiot. That's the money I've been making from the library."

"But, why are you giving it to me? You should get yourself something with this," Dean protested.

"I want you to have it. Now you can get the body work and the paint job for the car."

Dean gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Well yeah. I have no intentions to be seen riding around in that thing with the way it looks right now," Sam joked.

Dean couldn't believe Sam was doing this for him. No one had ever given him something this special. "Sam…I…you…I mean…"

"Dean, your welcome," Sam said calmly. Sam couldn't remember a time he felt so happy to be giving a gift. If ever there was a person who deserved to have something nice done for him it was Dean, the person who had spent his entire life taking care of others.

Dean finally smiled happily at his brother. "Thanks Sam."

For the rest of the night Dean felt like he was walking on clouds. Between his pay that day and Sammy's gift he could afford to put his car in the shop on Monday and have her looking as good as she ran. Dean still couldn't believe Sam had done that for him. He always knew that Sam loved him and now after their long talks in the hospital he even knew that his little brother needed him, but somehow Sam's actions today spoke so much louder than words ever could. Today was the first time in Dean's life that he felt special, like he actually mattered to someone. It was a wonderful feeling.

A/N: I hope this wasn't too corny.


	21. Midnight Musing Part II

Chapter 20: Midnight Musings: Part II 

John lay in his bed. Once again he found himself unable to sleep. Too many thoughts were going through his mind. He was thinking about his sons, his job, and the real job that was being ignored for now too long.

He turned on his lamp and pulled out the new journal that he had started a while back. He flipped through the pages looking at all the new potential jobs he had found in the papers and on the Internet during the past several months. Jesus, he was looking at a list that had over twenty possible hunts. People were dying and he was here playing house with his boys.

It was funny because he had been the one to lease the house for six months, not the boys. He could still remember Dean's reaction the night he told them of the six-month lease. Dean had been appalled, insisting they would be ready to go after just a week. John didn't regret his decision to protect and spend time with his sons. It was needed at the time, but everyone was healthy and strong now.

He thought back on all the things they had done over the past few months and he realized that a part of him had really enjoyed living in a house with his boys, holding down a steady job, earning a legitimate income, and even having a few nights a week to do family activities. The truth was he was going to miss this place. For the first time in decades he felt at home, not like he was in a motel or in a transition place. It had taken twenty-two years but he had finally given his sons a home. Now he was making plans to take it all away again.

At least they had had these few months if nothing else. They had all reconnected and his relationships with Sam and Dean were stronger than ever. Or so he had thought.

Sammy's little party had caught him off guard. He was surprised that Sam didn't give him the head's up about it. If he had known Sam was going to do that he would have gotten Dean some small gift too. He had forgotten about Dean's birthday all together. He figured he knew why Sam had kept him in the dark, though. If he had known what Sam had been planning he probably would have told him to not waste the money that he spent on the cake and the balloons.

Dean had been so happy that someone had gone through that much trouble for him. Sam's gesture had truly touched his brother and Dean wouldn't be likely to forget what Sam had done for a long time to come.

Once more his eyes wandered down to the growing list of hunts in his hands. He needed to get out there and start taking care of some of this, hell all of it. As long as he had the job at the garage, though, he was stuck waiting for the weekend to hunt but none of these jobs were close enough to be done in a weekend. No, John needed the freedom to go cross-country and have unlimited time to focus on these hunts.

He opened the drawer to his nightstand and pulled out six new credit cards in various names. Then he pulled out nine new driver's licenses, three for each of them. He had even arranged for new insurance cards. He had been making these preparations for the last few weeks now as a growing sense of unease and restlessness had crept over him. It was time for the Winchesters to move on.

Sam didn't realize it but he had actually made the final arrangement necessary for John to get his family back on the road. John wasn't helping Dean to rebuild his car just for the sake of having a little fun. No, the car was the last detail that needed to be taken care of. As soon as it was finished John would be leaving.

He stood up and wandered into the kitchen. He grabbed himself a glass of milk and even cut off another piece of the chocolate birthday cake. It really had been good. He ate his midnight snack and thought about how the boys would take the news of their impending exit. Dean would be glad to leave. The boy didn't really know how to stay in one place for long. On the other hand, as he thought of the past few months he realized that wasn't really true. Dean had been fidgety for the first few weeks they had lived there but once he got his job he had fallen into a comfortable routine. Maybe Dean would be upset to leave. Only time would tell.

Sammy on the other hand, well the shit was really going to hit the fan when he found out. Sam loved living here. He loved having his family under one roof. He loved feeling safe. He even loved his boring job at the library. Sam was going to be royally pissed off to hear it was time to leave.

Part of John wondered if Sam would even threaten to stay behind, but he knew Sam wouldn't abandon Dean again. Today's little birthday surprise showed John just how important Dean was to Sam, which was good because he wouldn't hesitate to use Sam's love for his brother as a motivator to get him to go back on the road.

John put his dirty plate and glass in the sink and peered inside the boys' room. As expected both were sound asleep, but they looked different than they had the last time he had spied on them during the night.

Sam wasn't twisted wildly in his bedcovers. In fact they were draped over him perfectly as if he had yet to move all night. His youngest son's face was relaxed, free from the nightmares that had haunted him when they first arrived here. John wondered if the time off had been enough to cure Sam of the night terrors for good or if his youngest would begin to suffer from them once more when he was back on the road. He hoped for Sammy's sake they never came back but John suspected they would. Sammy was just too emotional…sensitive. His youngest just wasn't able to cope with the grueling mental aspect of the job the way Dean could. He figured it would only take a few hunts before Sam would once more be plagued with nightmares.

Next John looked at Dean. Even he looked different. For the first time that John could remember Dean didn't have a hand right next to his pillow. He was sure if he looked the knife would still be under the pillow but Dean wasn't ready to grab it on a second's notice. Instead both of his arms were down by his side and he looked to be in a deep sleep. At some point in the last few months Dean had finally put trust in the protection spells that covered the house and felt free enough to truly sleep without being on guard.

John didn't know whether he should be happy that his boys were really well rested and safe or worried if he had somehow softened them up and now made them vulnerable to future danger. Yes, it was definitely time to get his family back on the road and back in the routine of protecting themselves and others.

He carefully pulled the door too, hoping to see Dean open one eye and look at him, telling him that Dean really had been on guard the whole time, but his son's eyes never flickered. Dean had slept through John's visit to their room. What if John had been someone or some_thing _else? The symbols on the house would do nothing to stop a werewolf or vampire from waltzing right through the door and at the moment his sons were sitting ducks.

John actually found himself feeling a surge of anger. He had let his boys relax too long, making them potentially weak and open to attack. As soon as Dean's car was done they were out of here. It would be for their own good as well as for others who needed their help. He sons needed to face the cold reality of what was out there again. He headed back to his room, his mind running over the things that would need to be taken care of.

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Sam sighed as he woke up. It was Saturday. There was no reason to jump out of bed and start hurrying to cook breakfast or to get ready for work. The Winchesters had the day off and Sam was looking forward to spending about another hour just lounging in his bed.

Sam looked over and saw that Dean too was still in bed. Apparently he also figured there was no need to get up early this morning. He had just rolled over and snuggled down into a more comfortable position when suddenly their bedroom door burst open.

Sam and Dean both nearly fell out of the bed from the loud clash as the doorknob connected with the wall behind it. Instantly Dean had his knife out from under his pillow and he was poised to strike.

It wasn't a monster or demon that stood in the doorway. It was their father and he had a rather stern face.

"Come on you two lazy asses. Up and at 'em. I want us to be at the shooting range in thirty minutes!"

Before Sam or Dean could reply John had stepped away from the door and they were alone once more.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked.

"I haven't a clue but we might as well get up," Dean replied.

Each took a five minute shower and when they came into the kitchen they found a breakfast of coffee and Cheerios waiting for them. John was in the living room with all the weapons laid out. There was a smell of burning metal in the air. It only took a glance to see that John had been making silver bullets. There were a lot of them in fact.

"Dad, how long have you been awake?" Dean asked.

"Several hours," John replied. "Eat up and let's go."

"What's the rush?" Sam asked.

"The rush is you two need some practice. You're both going soft. When was the last time you worked out or sparred? Last night I was able to sneak into your bedroom with neither of you any the wiser. I could have blown you both away or slit your throats and you would have slept through the whole thing. You two need to get back on your game or you're going to end up dead!"

"Dad, are you kidding me?" Sam gasped. "We haven't been sparring because we are all working from morning to night. We all have jobs and while I admit you and Dean clock more hours than I do I've been taking care of this place and doing all the cooking and laundry to help you two out. Then once all that is done we all go back to the garage and work on Dean's car. Then we come home well after dark and it's time for research and trying to find a hunt. You're mad at us simply because we slept in for an hour this morning?"

"I'm upset because last night something could have killed you two and you both would have been caught off guard."

"Dad, the house is safe. You are the one who told us that several times!"

"Sam, sit down, eat your breakfast and be ready to go in ten minutes!" John ordered. He then stormed through the living room and marched out the front door, slamming it behind him.

"What the hell!" Sam bitched. He looked to Dean to back him up on this one but Dean looked to be deep in thought. "You okay?" Sam asked.

"I can't believe Dad managed to sneak up on us like that," Dean muttered.

"What? Dean we were asleep."

"Doesn't matter," Dean replied. "I've been sleeping with one eye open for all my life. I can't believe last night I never even sensed that someone was in our room. That's not like me. I know better than that." Dean couldn't believe he had let himself be vulnerable like that. He couldn't believe he had allowed Sam to be in danger like that. Sure, nothing had happened, but what if it had?

"Don't tell me you think Dad's little temper tantrum is justified."

"Do I think we've been lazy? No. But, do I think maybe we aren't as sharp as we usually are, maybe. So he wants us to spar and do a little shooting. It's not a big deal. The practice would probably be a good thing."

"Still, he didn't have to talk to us like that," Sam complained.

"Sammy, he's Dad. Honestly bro, you need to get over it already. Just learn to roll your eyes and go with it."

"Yeah, maybe," Sam replied as he shoved a bite of cereal in his mouth. Still, for some reason Sam had a bad feeling. He felt like something was coming, he just didn't know what.

**A/N:** Now I wonder what bad thing Sam might be sensing is coming? Muha ha ha ha ha… **:-**


	22. Gratuitous Sex and Violence

Chapter 21: Gratuitous Sex and Violence 

A/N: As the title says, this chapter has sex and violence, but at least not at the same time. **;-**) I had a blast writing this chapter so I hope you all enjoy it.

Okay, has gone crazy today. This is the fourth time I'm uploading the chapter. Hopefully it works this time. sorry for any confusion.

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Sam stepped into the living room and dropped his bag by the door. Crap he was tired. He wandered into the kitchen and looked in the fridge. He sighed to see it was basically empty. Of course it was empty. He had been too busy to go and buy any groceries. He shut the door and stood up. He rolled his shoulders several times trying to stretch out his sore muscles. Ever since Saturday Dad seemed to be hell bent on working him and Dean half to death. Everyday was an hour of exercising followed by an hour of sparring.

Sam was used to sparring Dean. They knew how to trade blows back and forth and yet be careful to not really hurt each other. But Dad had actually joined in on their sparring matches. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday now Sam had started off sparring with Dean as a way of limbering up, only to then spar with his father. Dad made no attempt to hold back. He came at Sam with everything he had forcing Sam to do the same to avoid getting hurt. At first Dean had insisted that Dad take it easy especially when five minutes into it Sam had a split lip and a bloody nose.

Dad's reply was that if Sam had defended himself properly then he wouldn't have gotten hurt. After that Sam didn't hold back and he gave as good as he got. Still, here it was Thursday and he had to admit he was sore as hell. He hoped like hell that Dad would give them the night off since they were going to pick up Dean's car today. The paint job and all the bodywork were done. Sam knew Dean couldn't wait to get his new baby. Sam also figured that since Dad had ignored Wednesday night family night yesterday that it might be further incentive to give them all a break.

He realized that he was going to have to do something about the empty refrigerator. He pulled out his wallet and saw he had sixty-six dollars. Okay, so he had enough to go and get some groceries but since he didn't have a car he would have to buy just enough for dinner tonight and breakfast in the morning. He wasn't about to try and carry a weeks worth of groceries home from the market.

He headed back out the door and walked to the mini-mart that was three blocks over. He grabbed a pack of chicken, a box of rice, and a jar of gravy. He went to another isle and selected two cans of peas and carrots. He remembered breakfast and got a box of cereal and a half-gallon of milk. He figured that would be enough until he could get a ride to the market tomorrow and get some more. At the register he saw a box of donuts and tossed them in for good measure.

Back at home he fried the chicken and tosses in the jar of gravy. Then he prepared the minute rice. 'Instant dinner,' he thought to himself. No sooner was the thought out of his head then the front door opened and Dean and Dad walked in.

"Sammy, you would have made one hell of a wife," his brother teased. He headed straight for the cabinet and pulled out a plate. He didn't wait for anyone else; he just started loading the food on to his dish.

"You guys are home early," Sam commented.

"We skipped lunch so we would be able to leave early to go pick up Dean's car," John explained as he too quickly filled a pate with the hot food.

"That explains why you two look like you're about to keel over from hunger," Sam smirked.

"Not everyone has an easy job of stacking books," Dean teased playfully.

"Dean one day of doing my job and you would die of boredom," Sam played along.

"True," Dean laughed. "Hurry up and eat, Sam. We need to get going so we can pick up my car. The body shop closes in an hour."

"Dean, don't worry. We have plenty of time," John said. "The shop is only ten minutes away."

"I know, I just want to get my car. They better have done a good job or so help me they'll be doing the whole thing all over and for free!"

"Dean, I'm sure the car will be fabulous," Sam smirked.

"Yeah, well it better be."

Dinner was eaten so quickly that Sam doubted anyone had even had the chance to taste it. Dishes were placed in the sink and pots hastily shoved into the fridge.

"Okay, let's go," Dean ordered.

All three climbed into the pickup and Dad drove to the shop. Sam tried not to laugh as Dean's left leg was bouncing up and down with nervous anticipation. He was tempted to tell Dean it was just a car, but after the loss of the Impala Sam decided to let Dean be excited. With the exception of his birthday party last week it had been a while since Dean had been this happy about something.

Dean was ready to jump out of his skin by the time they park in the lot of the body shop. He jumped from the truck and ran up to his car, which was parked in the front lot waiting for him since he had called earlier to say when he would be arriving to pick it up.

"She's perfect," Dean beamed. He ran his hands lovingly over her fenders and the hood. He got on his knees and examined the chrome for any paint or scratches.

Sam watched Dean as he caressed and fondled the car.

"Should Dad and I give you a moment of privacy," Sam teased.

"You're just jealous that my baby is prettier than you," Dean teased right back. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were going to paint her candy apple red?" Sam asked. He had been shocked actually to see that Dean had the car painted jet black.

Dean looked at Sam thoughtfully. "Black just seemed right. It's supposed to be black."

To most people Dean's answer might not have made sense but Sam understood just fine. With her high gloss black finish and her chrome bumpers and black leather seats, in a lot of ways the GTO looked like the Impala. The only real difference was that the GTO was two door instead of four.

"I think you made an excellent choice," Sam told Dean and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Let me pay and I'll take you for a little test run," Dean replied.

Sam stayed with the car while John and Dean went inside to pay the bill. He ran his hands over the smooth lines of the car and had to admit that it was sweet looking ride. Dean would surely be the envy of many as he drove this thing around.

A few minutes later Dean came out with the keys in his hands and marched right up to the driver side door. He climbed in and then unlocked Sam's door.

"I'll see you boys at home later," John replied. "I expect you back in about two hours so we can get in a practice."

Both Sam and Dean groaned but then Dean got a look on his face and started the engine. He revved it loudly pretending that he couldn't hear his Dad. Sam smirked but said nothing. John yelled something else but again Dean just revved the engine even louder. Then he clicked on the radio, shoved in a tape that Sam had made for him, put on his sunglasses and floored it out of the parking lot, leaving his father in a cloud of dust.

Sam laughed and looked at Dean. "You realize he's going to work us out three times as hard for that little stunt you just pulled."

"He can't work us to death if we aren't there," Dean smirked.

"You are going to get us in to so much trouble aren't you?" Sam asked but there was a happy excitement to his voice.

"Oh yeah," Dean replied. "Sammy, it's time we go out and have a little fun!"

Dean hit the highway and just drove with no destination in mind. He kept track of where he headed so he'd be able to find his way back home later, but other than that he didn't have a care in the world. Two hours passed by with the windows down and the music blaring. Usually Sam would have turned the radio down by now but even he was enjoying the open road and the heavy rock was somehow soothing in a way that only comes from routine and repeated actions.

Dean finally pulled off the highway and did a u-turn to get back on.

"We're going home already?" Sam asked.

"Hell no," Dean smiled. "The night is young and I haven't been laid in damn near three months. Sammy, you and I are getting lucky tonight!"

"Dean, I don't need you to find a woman for me."

"Hey, I did a pretty damn good job with getting Sarah for you didn't I?"

"That was different. I liked Sarah for who she was, not because she was going to put out!"

"Sammy, let's not argue over semantics. Point is, you got some lovin' and Sarah was way hot. You totally owe me little brother!"

Sam laughed but replied with a classic, "Whatever!"

Dean made a point of driving over to the next town. He remembered what his dad said about the cops showing up at his front door and he couldn't guarantee that by the end of the night there wouldn't be a little police involvement. Dean was feeling rowdy and the thought of a little trouble was right up his alley. He looked at Sam and saw that even his little brother was eager for a night of freedom away from Dad.

Dean parked at the roughest looking biker bar he could find. The place was dirty and grungy and _absolutely perfect_.

"Here? Dean we're likely to get killed."

"Sammy, you worry way too much! Lighten up. Besides, remember what I said. Ain't nothing bad going to happen to you while I'm around."

"Are you sure the GTO will be safe here?" Sam asked.

"Anyone touches my car and I'll shoot them," Dean replied. "Now come on, I'm feeling lucky!"

As soon as they opened the door a wave of cigarette smoke assault them. Sam coughed several times but Dean just smiled, feeling oddly at home. They went in and their eyes roamed over the room. The place was filled with bikers and white trash of all kinds. Most of the girls had on way too much make-up and not nearly enough clothing. Sam couldn't remember the last time he had seen so many leather skirts in one place.

Dean waltz up to the bar and ordered two beers for him and Sam. His eyes never stopped looking for the girl who would be graced with his presence tonight. The waitress was out, that was for sure. She was at least forty-five, over weight, and had a buzz cut. Yuck!

"I'm going to play some poker," Dean announced to Sam.

"I'm gonna have a seat," Sam replied.

Dean nodded and walked up to a poker game already in progress. "Mind if I join in?" Dean asked.

Five sets of suspicious eyes rose up to look at him. "You got any money?" one of them asked.

"Of course." Dean pulled out a wad of bills and flashed them for the bikers to see.

"Sit down," another one said. "Put your money up and shut up."

Dean pulled up a chair and had a seat. He looked over and saw that Sam was safe in the corner doing what he usually did in these places. He watched everyone else have a good time while he nursed his beer. One of these days Sam would learn to lighten up but it didn't look like tonight would be the night.

Sam scoped out the room seeing which people might pose a possible threat. He always had Dean's back while he gambled and hustled pool.

"Hey there, cutie. Are you all alone?" a female voice asked.

Sam looked up and saw a girl of about fifteen or sixteen talking to him.

"Actually, I'm here with my brother. He's playing poker right now."

"So, you are alone then," she replied and had a seat next to him. "I'm Amanda."

"Sam. Are you old enough to be in here?" he asked.

"Of course I am," she replied with a seductive smile. "Why do you ask?"

"Cause you look like jail bait to me," Sam replied.

"Honey, I'll be any age you want me to be. Why don't we get out of here and go to my place for a while."

"And just what do you have in mind?" Sam asked.

Amanda put her hand on Sam's thigh and began to rub, her hand going higher and higher. Sam grabbed her hand and pulled it away from him.

"I'm going to do you a favor. Go home. You seem like a nice kid so why you're looking to have sex with a total stranger is beyond me."

"I'm not a nice kid," she replied angrily. She quickly hid her anger and put on a fake smile. "I know what I'm doing. For fifty dollars I can make all your dreams come true baby."

"You're a hooker? Jesus, what are you, like fifteen?"

"I'm seventeen and besides, what do you care?"

"I care because no one should have to sell themselves for money."

"Yeah, well a girl has to eat," she sneered. She stood up to walk away but Sam grabbed her arm.

"Wait."

"Change your mind?" she asked.

"No." He fished out two twenties from his pocket and handed them to her.

"What's this for?"

"Food. Now go home."

"You're gonna give me money for nothing?"

"Not for nothing," Sam replied. "It's so you don't have to do this tonight."

"What are you? Some kind of boy scout?"

"Yep, that's my brother all right," Dean replied, suddenly standing behind the girl.

"You're weird," she finally said and walked away.

Dean couldn't stop the chuckle from hearing someone call his dorky brother weird.

"Sam, I leave you alone for fifteen minutes and you're already pissing off the locals."

"She was a hooker, Dean. She's just a dumb kid. I gave her money to go home."

"Dude, you what? How much did you give her?"

"Forty."

"Sam, you know she's just going to move on to the next john in this room right? She has no intention of going home."

"Maybe, maybe not," Sam replied.

Dean sighed. "You're hopeless little brother," but Dean wouldn't have Sam any other way. "Anyway, I have to get back to the game. I just stepped away to get another beer."

Sam watched Dean go back to the table and then he saw Amanda sitting at a table with a man who was easily in his fifties. She had her hand on his leg and was rubbing his thigh. Dean was right. She wasn't going to go home. Well, Sam did what he could. She was on her own now.

The night wore on. Dean made a killing at the poker game and then headed for the pool tables. Sam teamed up with Dean and they played doubles with several people in the bar. After scoring a couple hundred bucks at the pool tables no one wanted to play with them anymore.

Sam was on his third beer and had to admit he was feeling pretty mellow. He wasn't drunk, not like the night he had four shots of Jack, but he was pleasantly buzzed. Dean on the other hand was downing beer number five and was slightly past buzzed.

Sam went to the bathroom and by the time he came back out Dean had a pretty, if not overly made up, blonde on his arm. She looked to be about twenty and she was hanging all over him.

Dean pulled the girl up to Sam. "Sammy, this is Tammy." He then laughed at his own rhyme.

"Hi," Sam said.

"Hello."

"Sweetheart, why don't you go on outside. I'll be there in just a minute."

"Sure thing sugar."

She stepped away and Dean turned back to Sam. "Dude, I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Where are you going?" Sam asked. There was no way Dean could get to her place and take care of business and be back in ten minutes.

"I'm going to go christen the car."

"You're going to have sex in the back seat?" Sam gasped.

"And get the upholstery all sweaty, no way."

"Then where?" Sam asked, clearly confused.

Dean grinned. "On the hood. Stay put. I'll be back." He raised his eyebrows a couple of times, downed the last sup of his beer and headed out the door.

Sam watched him go and shook his head. Only Dean!

"Let go you bastard!"

Sam looked back to see Amanda struggling to get away from two rather tough looking bikers.

"What's the matter, slut? You can hit on every man in the bar but we ain't good enough for you?" The biker slapped her hard and then grabbed her by the back of her head. He forced his lips onto hers and kissed her violently.

Sam never hesitated. He marched right up to them. "Let her go!"

The biker pulled back his head and looked at Sam. "Go home to your mommy boy. This ain't your business."

Amanda clawed at the man's hands, trying to get his fingers out of her hair so she could flee.

"Let the girl go," Sam repeated. "She obviously doesn't want your company."

"This bitch isn't going anywhere until I get what I want. I'm telling you for the last time, get the fuck out of here."

Sam took another step forward. Someone came at Sam with a pool stick. Sam quickly dodged the blow and kicked the man in his gut, sending him flying over the table and onto the floor.

"You son of a bitch," another man yelled. "No one fucks with my brother."

The man swung at Sam but again he dodge right and grabbed the man's arm and spun him around. Then Sam delivered two quick jabs to the guy's head and he crumpled to the floor.

Finally the guy who was manhandling Amanda stood up and released the girl. She took off running instantly.

"You're going to regret that." He charged Sam and knocked him to the floor. Sam hopped up quickly punched him in the gut.

"Umph," the biker grunted. Then he landed his own punch on the side of Sam's head. Sam was about to return a punch when again he saw someone coming at him with a pool stick. Sam dropped and watched as the biker ended up getting whacked in the face with the pool stick.

The next thing Sam knew the entire room erupted into an all out brawl.

000000000

"Oh baby," the girl, what was her name, oh yeah, Tammy, screamed and Dean continued to rock her world. She was perched on the hood of the GTO and had her legs wrapped around Dean's waist.

Dean had made a point of parking in the spot farthest from the bar. No one seemed to notice what the two of them were doing. He pumped harder and finally came hard and fast. Tammy screamed out one more and then went limp in his arms.

"Hmmm, what a man," Tammy purred.

"I aim to please," Dean said cockily.

"Then how about you come to my place and we have seconds."

Dean was about to reply when the door to the bar opened and he could hear the roar of the fight all the way from where he was standing. Shit, Sammy was still in there!

"Maybe next time," Dean replied as he quickly yanked off his condom, tucked himself in, zipped his pants and took off running, leaving a very confused and somewhat pissed off Tammy behind.

Dean entered the bar and ducked just in time to avoid having a beer bottle break over his head. He quickly stood back up and looked for Sam. Sam was in the middle of the room trading blows with what had to be the biggest motherfucker in the whole damn place.

Dean quickly made his way throw the room, throwing punches and landing kicks along the way. The place was a mad house and Dean was having a blast, or at least he was until he saw someone crack a pool stick across Sam's back.

Dean immediately tackled the pool stick guy and proceeded to punch him senseless. Once the guy was down for the count Dean was back at Sam's side. Sam spun around and almost hit Dean.

"Whoa, it's me."

"Dean!" Sam called and pushed Dean out of the way of a flying chair. The brothers hit the floor with Sam landing on top.

"Dude, get off!" Dean grunted.

"So did you get lucky?" Sam asked. He stood up and punched someone in the face.

Dean quickly got up and grabbed a pool stick and blocked a blow coming his way.

"Oh yeah, she wanted more but I heard all this commotion coming from the bar," Dean replied as he continued to fight.

"Dude, you just left her?" Sam asked just before getting a hard blow to the jaw. He fell to his knees.

Dean punched Sam's attacker and then offered him a hand back up.

"Well, I had this crazy idea that my kid brother might be in trouble," Dean replied.

"I'm going to kill you!" the biker who had attacked Amanda yelled once he saw Sam again. He grabbed a chair and approached Sam with it raised over his head.

"Friend of yours?" Dean asked.

Sam just gave him a look but prepared to dodge the blow. The biker swung the chair. Sam dodged and Dean kneeled down and launched himself at the guy's legs. The big biker fell to the floor and dropped the chair on his own head. Dean straddled the guy and landed about five blow's to the guy's head, knocking him out.

"I think it's time to get out of here," Dean said. He grabbed Sam by his upper arm and pulled him towards the door. They were almost out when Sam's head was suddenly ablaze with pain.

"Dean!" Sam gasped and grabbed his forehead.

"Shit, Sam, not now!" Dean groaned. He tightened his grip on his brother and pulled Sam out of the bar. Outside Dean didn't stop. He pulled Sam towards the car as fast as possible. He did not want his brother to hit the ground where they were standing. No doubt the police were on their way and they needed to be gone before they arrived.

"Come on Sam, we're almost to the car. You can do it."

Sam was breathing heavy and sweat glistened on his brow. "Dean, it hurts," Sam exclaimed. He didn't understand why the vision didn't just come already.

Dean got Sam to the car and opened his door. He forced Sam to sit down. He pushed Sam's head between his knees and ordered him to take several deep breaths. Sam complied but the pain didn't lessen.

"Oh god, it feels like my head is going to explode!"

"Sam, should I take you to the hospital?" Maybe this wasn't Sam's freaky powers? Maybe Sam was hurt from the bar fight?

"No, just take me…" Sam stopped talking. A feeling of dread came over his so strong, so forcefully. "Dean, we have to go! Now! We're in danger!"

"What? Why?" Dean asked, but was already closing Sam's door and running around to his side of the car.

"Just do it!" Sam all but yelled.

Dean jumped in the car and started the engine. He backed up out of his parking spot and spun the tires as he pulled out of the lot and back on the road.

As they left Sam saw him. He was just standing there watching as they made their get away. Even if the darkness had been too much to block the man's face from Sam's view there was nothing that could have hidden his eyes. The man's eyes glowed with a yellow fire that Sam knew immediately.

"Dean! It's the demon!"

"What?" Dean turned his head to look back over his shoulder. For a fleeting second he saw a man standing there but then the car rounded a bend and he was gone. "Are you sure?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, it was him. I recognized him from my visions, and…and the eyes. They were just like Dad's that night!"

"Shit!" Dean cursed.

"What? What's wrong?" Sam asked fearfully.

"Sam, we have no weapons! I have my gun in my pocket and a knife, but that's it! We have to get out of here. We're sitting ducks! What did you see in your vision?"

"I didn't have a vision."

"But the headache?"

"Dean, I think…I think he was trying to take me."

Dean looked at Sam quickly and there was no mistaking the fear Sam saw in his brother's face.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked. "Take you where?"

"I think he tried to possess me," Sam explained. "But he failed. I don't know if it's because I fought him or because of the tattoo."

"How's your head now?" Dean asked as he speeded down the road.

"It hurts a little but nothing like before."

"Do you think he knows where you are now? It's he following you…. mentally…that is?"

"No. He tried to get in but he didn't succeed. He isn't…reading my mind. If they're following us then they're doing it the old fashioned way."

Dean quickly looked through the rearview mirror. "There's no one behind us that I can see, but we are definitely taking the long way home."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Tonight had to be some kind of a fluke. I mean, what were the odds of going to the biker bar that the demon just happened to come upon."

"I should have been more careful," Dean said. "You've had several visions now that the demon was inside a biker's body. I can't believe I took you to a biker bar and then left all the weapons at home. What the hell was I thinking?"

"Dean, dude, this wasn't your fault. You don't have a crystal ball. You don't know the future. Tonight was a coincidence. Look, we're both safe now and we are on our way home. Everything turned out just fine. Better than fine, you managed to christen the car, remember." Sam was eager to change the subject. He didn't want Dean beating himself up for something that was out of his control.

Dean smirked. "And you started a bar fight. I can't believe I missed that!"

"Who said I started it?"

Dean just gave Sam a look. Sam caved. "Okay, okay, I started it."

Dean smiled. "I have to admit, until the very end it was one hell of a night."

"Kind of like old times," Sam agreed. "You do realize that Dad is so going to kick our collective asses when we get home."

"Yeah, but Tammy was worth it."

"Dude, one of these days you're going to have to stop thinking with your downstairs brain."

"And one of these days, Sammy, you're going to have to stop thinking with your upstairs brain. Now shut up and let me get us home." Dean turned the music up and like old times they drove in a comfortable silence.


End file.
